


Beat Drop - Klance AU

by MonsieurDandylionMethod



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Cuddles, Dancer, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and cuddles, Fluffy, Gay, Langst, M/M, Voltron, adidas are mainstream but lance still wears them lol, angsty, based on fanart, cute shit, feel good, flowershop, fluffy klance, gay af, hang in there im going in blind, i dont know if theres gonna be smut yet, i say vol you say tron, kangst, keith in beanies, klance fluff, klangst, maybe smut, salty lance, vld, voltron legendary defender - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 55,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsieurDandylionMethod/pseuds/MonsieurDandylionMethod
Summary: Keith works in Allura's flowershop. Lance takes dance lessons with Allura. Keith and Shiro go to the same gym as Lance and Allura... things get angsty and romantic and cute. Hunk owns a bakery and coffee shop. Pidge is off doing (probably illegal) computer hacking for an agency. A band called Voltron re-emerges from the past and the same four kids try out music life again. The whole VLD family ;)





	1. 1-Allura's Arboretum and Floristry

It was shaping to be a pretty normal day. Keith had woken up late for the hundredth time, and he considered just changing his alarm clock to the exact minute that he could get away with, instead of the 'leisurely, early morning' he promised himself each night. 

The coffee he had snagged from Hunk's was strong and hot, and the steam and scent drove away the remnants of sleep that lingered on his mind. The caffeine made him sharp as he opened shop, putting a new roll of paper in the cash register, tying the red apron around his waist, and settling into the morning routine of watering the plants and checking orders, and arranging the random knick-knacks and other items for sale.

"Allura's Arboretum and Floristry". It wasn't the sweetest name, nothing like 'Pretty Petals', but it was scientific and to-the-point, like it's owner. Keith was the sole worker, and main manager of the shop, but he didn't own it. Allura Altea was a beautiful, excitable woman who had a green thumb and a love for flowers, and she had hired Keith when he was looking for jobs. Keith had only recently moved to the small sea-side town for college. 

He had never really considered himself a flowershop kind of person, but it oddly clicked when he began working. The shop was quiet and calm, always smelled good, and he didn't have any annoying co-workers. Business was good at this time of year, especially with all the tourists who walked down the main strip by the ocean and visit the quaint shops as the colors of late summer and autumn swirled around them. 

Earlier in the summer when Keith had first moved here, he had arranged seashells along the counters and potted flowers and trees, and along with the blue-painted walls and its convenient location, it was what Hunk had called the 'perfect beachy petal shop'.

Hunk was a striving entrepreneur, managing his own little coffee shop and bakery, just down the road. Hunk was like a tattered blanket from your childhood, or a favorite stuffed animal. His constant smile and yellow sweatshirt that always smelled like pastries and coffee beans immediately made you feel warm. Keith wasn't a very touchy-feely, emotional person, but, aside from Shiro, Hunk was the best person to talk about personal stuff with.

"Thank you, have a nice day," Keith said to the elderly woman, who was holding a small bonsai tree in her arms, "Do you need some help with that?" 

"I've got it dear, thank you," she smiled with crooked teeth and a frail voice, and shuffled out the door and into the sunny afternoon. 

Keith sighed and leaned forward against the counter, brushing off some dirt that the pot had shed. Soft music from his iPod played over the speakers in the shop, and he surveyed the room, eyes floating over the Alocasia odora, with its giant leaves that hung over the shelf of glass-blown vases and bowls, the hanger full of floral dresses and shirts, the display of the children's toys and gifts, from flower teething toys to fake leis. 

Sitting back in his swivel chair behind the desk, Keith waited for his laptop to boot up, pushing on his glasses. His fingers poised over the keyboard, he began going over the rubric for the essay he was about to write for one of his classes. Frowning, Keith tried to remember. As he was lost in thought, the bell at the door dinged, signaling a customer. Keith shut his laptop and looked up.

A teen was wondering aimlessly into the shop, hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulder relaxed as he looked around. 

"Hey," the boy said nonchalantly, and tipped his head in Keith's direction, eyes glancing Keith over. 

"Hello... may I help you with something?" 

The teen shook his head, and his short hair swished around his forehead. "Nah, I'm good. Just looking."

Keith settled back and watched the customer making his way around the store. He surreptitiously adjusted his beanie over his dark hair, and took off his glasses, folding them neatly beside his laptop. 

The customer hesitated by a rack of floral button-downs and flipped the fabric between his fingers. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a blue tank top that read, "saltier than the ocean" in block letters. Keith rolled his eyes internally at the boy's mainstream white-with-black-stripes Adidas. 

The brunette walked with a light kind of saunter, which reminded Keith vaguely of a cat, and he seemed to unconsciously bend his feet one at a time, up onto his toes, then rolling his ankles. Everything about him seemed relaxed. The total opposite of Keith. 

Keith snapped to attention when the teen dropped into a squat in front of the bouquet rack and swooped up a wildflower and peony bundle before straightening and walking over to the counter. 

"I'll take this please," he murmured as he pulled out his wallet. Keith eyed the bouquet, calculating the price, before typing it into the ancient cash register, which groaned as it spat out the cash box. 

"$7.89, please." 

The customer grinned and handed Keith a $20. 

"Keep the change, cutie." Keith froze. His fingers froze around the twenty. His gaze found the teen's blue eyes, which were happy and playful.

"Oh, lighten up," the customer said, laughing, "Here." He reached forward across the counter and placed a plucked sprig of forget-me-nots behind Keith's ear.

"I'm Lance, by the way. I hope to see you around." 

Keith's tongue felt fat and useless in his mouth as he fumbled for words. 

"Keith," he blurted, and then his eyes grew wide at his outburst. "I'm Keith," he covered up. 

"Keith..." Lance stared at him, curious. "See you around!" 

And before Keith could object, Lance was strolling out the door, bell clinking behind him.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ Keith scolded himself and leaned down, banging his head against the counter lightly. He sighed, and inhaled sharply, eyes opening. 

He was going to see Lance again. Of that, he was sure. 


	2. 2-Hunk's Cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Hunk and Pidge! Love advise and then some cute Klance fluff as they meet again :0

Keith had been trying to stay sane all week. Somehow, Lance had wriggled his way into Keith's brain in annoyingly frustrating  _but adorable_ way, and now Keith was ready to rip out his hair in frustration. Maybe it was because of the fact that Keith had been single since the sixth grade. Maybe it was because he had pretty much hidden from puberty in his basement playing racing videogames. Or maybe it was because the word 'crush' had never been a part of Keith's vocabulary. Whatever it was, Keith was frustrated but excited. Freaking Lance. 

Keith sighed as he hung up his apron, checking his watch again to make sure that Hunk's was still open. He walked to his motorcycle, the only vehicle left outside the shop, and kicked off down the street, the red and black cycle purring softly beneath him. The streetlights glowed as he passed under them, illuminating him in flashes as he drove, his hair flinging in front of his eyes.

Keith had bought the motorcycle when he was 16, and, not to be emo, but it was 'an escape' for him. Of course, the disclaimer was ruined by the fact that he usually blasted My Chemical Romance or Fallout Boy while he drove, and sometimes even sang along when he was alone on the streets. He was a night owl, it's what he did. 

Hunk's cafe lights were welcoming and warm as Keith pulled into the lot, parking carefully before jogging inside. People chatted in booths and worked on laptops, big white mugs of coffee and tea surrounding leaving rings on the scruffed tables. 

Hunk, the tall, chunky owner was grinning at the customer he was serving, and whenever he laughed, the sound filled the room. 

"Enjoy your coffee," Hunk was saying as Keith approached the counter, looking up at the chalkboard menus. Hunk also served pastries and bread, but everything had already sold out already. 

"Hey Hunk," Keith said over the talk of the patrons. 

"Keith!" Hunk immediately set to work on his friend's usual coffee, whirling around the small kitchen with the grace that was disposed of as soon as he left the shop. Hunk was the epitome of "bull in a china shop" anywhere other than the cafe. 

"Have time to talk?" Keith asked, this time quieter, and Hunk mock-swooned.

"Anything for you, Keithie-pie!"

Keith rolled his eyes. He and Hunk walked over to an empty table and were settling in when a voice spoke up.

"The phrase actually isn't "Luke, I am your father." It's "No, I am your father."  It's the Mandela effect. So interesting... Can I join you guys?"

Keith knew that voice.

"Pidge!" Hunk rumbled happily. The short figure looked up from her computer screen and smiled lightly.

Pidge's overall appearance was a boy, but Keith had never really known how to stop calling her a girl when she transitioned, so she had let him keep calling her a girl. She was very short, but was actually a freshman in college, even though she was smart enough to be at least 2 grades higher. Her large circular glasses clung to her nose like usual, even though she really didn't need them, and she cradled a heavy-duty black laptop in her arm, the screen illuminating her face. 

"We were just about to go over Keith's love life," Hunk explained and Pidge shut her computer, quirking an eyebrow.

"He has one?"

"Not funny, shrimp," Keith grumbled, but they both cracked a smile.

"Sooo?" Hunk prompted, resting his elbows on the table, holding up his chin.

"A customer stopped by today... His name's Lance."

"You're gay?" Hunk whisper-screeched.

Pidge rolled her eyes. "You're  _really_  dense, Hunk." 

"I knew it, I knew it, I called it, I was just kidding. Anyway, who is he."

"His name's Lance... And I was a total idiot in front of him."

"Don't worry, Keith, you're always an idiot," Pidge comforted him.

"I KNOW HIM!" Hunk exclaimed loudly, and Keith buried his head in his hands. Boy, he was loving this attention. "He comes by on Tuesdays and Thursdays and always orders a caramel macchiato. He's the one with the brown hair, right? And he's super thin but also kinda muscular?" 

"Yeah, that's him."

"Keith... Tomorrow is conveniently a Tuesday," Pidge nudged, but Keith shook his head.

"Not happening."

"What? Why?!" Hunk cried, looking genuinely hurt.

"It's too cliche! A coffee date? Are you kidding me?"

"Express your love over an espresso!" Pidge sang loudly.

"Tell him you love him over a latte!" Hunk crooned, and now people were staring at them.

They sat back and looked at Keith expectantly. The florist sighed. There's no way he'd get out of this.

"Kiss him over a cappuccino?" He tried quietly.

"EXACTLY!" Hunk bellowed, and Pidge pretended to wipe tears from her eyes. 

"Be bold!" He said as if he was an expert on love advice (he'd never been in a relationship).

 They then talked about school, and work, which was boring, and then Hunk had to get up and close shop, so Keith and Pidge parted ways, Pidge mumbling something about the Mandela effect again and the Monopoly Man. 

Keith stepped out into the cool night and pressed his hands in his pockets for warmth. 

"Tomorrow at 9."

...

The floor-length mirror in Keith's room was now officially both an indecisive piece of shit and Keith's lifesaver. Yanking his long, dark hair, he stared at his closet, frustrated. Why did he have such ugly clothes?! He had never really thought about wanting to impress anyone before, or at least looking nice, so he usually just picked comfortable, classic clothes, but this evaluation left him thinking how he had gone all this time thinking he had actually looked decent. 

Kicking a striped sweater out of the way, he gazed at the dozen outfits littered on the floor. He liked his clothes! How did this one guy make him suddenly so self-conscious! Glancing at the clock, he cursed loudly. 8:48. "Fuck it," Keith muttered, settling on black ripped jeans and a loose, soft maroon sweater. Pushing up the sleeves, he searched for his wallet and keys, flicked on his glasses, and ran out the door. 

He hopped on the sidewalk, tieing his converse, then catapulted onto his motorcycle and sped down the narrow black streets of the lot to Hunk's. The late-morning traffic was light, and Keith inhaled the sea-breeze as he rode by the beach, the air refreshing to his tired face. 

Parking hurriedly in front of Hunk's, Keith jumped off the seat and rushed into the cafe, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. Smiling apologetically at the startled patrons, Keith scanned the shop for the short brown hair of Lance.

"Keith!" a voice called, and Keith glanced up at the counter to see Hunk, grinning, standing in front of a tall, thin- Holy shit, it was Lance. Keith approached the counter slowly, trying to seem nonchalant, casually sliding up to Lance, who was typing on his phone. 

"What can I get for you?" Hunk cooed, smiling sweetly. Keith wanted to slam his face against the nearest hard surface. 

"A black coffee, please. Medium." 

"Sure thing, my man. Coming right up."

Lance finally looked up, looked at Keith, then did a slight double-take. 

"Flowershop guy!" Keith jumped slightly, then blushed as if he had  _no idea that Lance would be here today at this time what an absolute coincidence my goodness._

"Hey," Keith replied awkwardly and turned to face Lance. 

"We keep on running into each other, cutie," Lance said without a blink. Does he just call people that?

Give a crush a week to sit and it takes over your life. Symptoms may include: combining your names into cute ships, thinking about them too much, and imagining your future children. Keith tried to convince himself that none of the symptoms had happened to him.

"Did you like the flowers?" Keith asked, because he was a businessman and he was interested in customer reviews- nope. He wanted to know if Lance had given them to anyone. 

"They were great." Lance didn't elaborate. Keith was suspicious. And awkward.

"Good... good." The tension was climbing, and Keith was tempted to sprint out the door now and cry into his pillow until the day was over.

"Ah, this is awkward," he admitted, and the tips of his ears heated up, probably turning pink. But Lance laughed, and the tension dissolved, and he took the coffee that Hunk was handing him. It smelled sweet, like- caramel. Keith thought of the molten caramel he and his mom used to make, and thought it looked like the color of Lance's skin. 

"Well, I need to go, but we should totally hang out sometime. Lunch, dinner, coffee, movies, my place, your place..." Lance trailed off, smiling that crooked grin.

"Sure!" Keith said a little too enthusiastically, then coughed, ducked his head and said again, calmer, "yeah, that'd be fun." 

"Gimme your phone, I'll give you my number." Keith fumbled for his phone, which was an embarrassing flip-phone. Lance nearly burst out laughing, "That's adorable." Keith cursed his ugly phone and vowed to get a new one.

Lance typed in his number, then handed it back to Keith, who looked a bit lost, a bit starstruck. "I gotta go, see ya cutie! Make sure to text me!" Keith nodded and swallowed. 

"See you later, Lance." His words were clear, happy, and sweet. Winking, Lance sauntered out the door and crossed the street.

Hunk came out of the storage room, grinning. He held out Keith's coffee with a grin, "Text me, cutie," he imitated, and Keith slapped his forehead, blushing. 

"You guys are adorable," Hunk confirmed, "Practically dating already!"

"No, we aren't!"

"Not ye..." Hunk grinned.

"I gotta go, man, you big lug of eavesdropping niceness." Keith tried to insult and thank Hunk in one sentence, and his friend got the message. 

"Keep me updated!" Hunk's voice chased Keith out the door.

...

After watering all the plants, checking in on the orders, and settling behind the desk, Keith checked his phone.

**Gym tomorrow?**

Shiro.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that this took so long to update! I've been struggling with finding where I want this au to go, and I finally figured it out :) more chapters out soon!


	3. 3-We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Shiro and Allura! Lance and Allura dancing, and a double coffee date after... some cute shallura lowkey moments and keithyboi wants a date

Keith gulped down water, face dripping sweat. Shiro slowed his treadmill to a fast walk, red-faced himself. "7 miles. Good time too." Keith was still too out-of-breath to speak, so he nodded, pinching his tank top and lifting it away from his damp skin. Shiro pulled his earbuds out and smiled tiredly at Keith, who was pouring the last drops of water in his mouth from his water bottle.

"Need more water," Keith wheezed, and they stepped off the treadmills. 

"So tell me about this Lance guy," Shiro said, flicking the bleached piece of hair off his forehead. Shiro was tall and muscular and basically a model. He was like a big brother to Keith, and they'd been best friends since high school.

"He's a pain in the ass," Keith said between breaths. 

"And...?" Shiro prompted.

"He's cute."

Shiro sighed and punched Keith lightly on the shoulder, which nearly made him fall over in his weak state. 

"Shiro, you've wounded me," Keith deadpanned, and Shiro laughed.

"Well, you're withholding important information."

"He's a boy and I like him and he's pretty and, like, really confident, which is weird," Keith heaved, exasperated.

They were approaching a large crowd and Keith took it as an opportunity to change the subject.

"What's this?"

Shiro squinted. "One of the dance practice rooms, I think." They pushed through to the front, wanting to see the commotion.

'Electric', a slow, produced song, was playing over the external speakers so the crowd could hear the music. Inside the clear box, a couple danced. It took Keith a moment, and then he realized... The boy. That was Lance. What the fuck? He danced? And... holy shit... was that Allura? His boss? Keith blinked. 

Lance held Allura's waist as she moved with robotic twists to the beat. He dropped the other way and they mirrored each other, then separating and doing the same moves side by side. It was awesome to watch, their limbs and chests moving in time, controlled and balanced. Allura wore black leggings and pastel pink Nike sneakers, with a white crop top that had a sketched lily-pad and pink lily flower on it. Shiro's breath caught up in his throat as he watched her smooth brown skin with contrast to her white hair.

Keith was glued to Lance though.

The song's beat died out, and the crowd dispersed. Lance and Allura fell apart and high fived, breathing heavy. 

"Keith..." Shiro was the first to break the silence, "She's... beautiful." 

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Dude, she's my boss." 

Shiro's eyes widened, "Can you introduce me?" 

"Uh-," Keith was cut off by Lance and Allura exiting the practice room, "Act natural," he hissed to the starstruck Shiro. 

Allura was the one to notice the pair first. "Keith!" 

He smiled sheepishly, "Hey, Allura."

"How are you?" She asked, rushing forward and hugging him tightly. 

"I'm good. The shop's good." 

"Oh, that's wonderful! I'm stopping by tomorrow, so you can have a break." Allura's accent made her seem 'proper', softening her 'r's and making her 'o's round.

"Hey, Keith!" Lance jogged up to Allura, then quirked an eyebrow, "Are you stalking me?"

Keith almost snorted, "No, no, no," he assured Lance, "Shiro, this is Lance and Allura." 

Shiro's eyebrows shot up, " _The_ Lance?" Keith flushed. He couldn't be any more subtle. 

Lance smirked, "You've been talking about me?"

Allura looked beyond confused, "How do you know-"

"Let's get coffee!" Lance announced and dragged Allura to the changing rooms.

"We'll meet you outside!" Allura called over her shoulder, giggling. The door shut behind them and Keith and Shiro stood still for a second. Without looking up, they fist-bumped, then head downstairs to the gym's showers. 

...

"Wait, what?" Allura laughed.

"Yeah, it was back when we were in high school. We had the whole band planned out too. Our friends Pidge and Hunk were also going to be in it," Shiro admitted. 

"Keith, why didn't you ever tell me you were in a band?" The woman exclaimed, hitting Lance playfully on the arm. 

"It was lame!" Keith protested.

"What did you call it?" Lance piped up, grinning. Shiro and Keith fell silent, awkwardly looking at each other.

"Voltron..." Keith mumbled, embarrassed.

Lance sat back in his chair, "Badass," he admitted. The four sat around a small table at Hunk's, each with a respective white mug of steaming caffeine in front of them. 

"Voltron?" Hunk asked as he approached their table to check in on them, "Haven't heard that name in a while." He gazed knowingly at Shiro and Keith.

"Oh, you were talking about this Hunk?" Allura asked, smiling up at the cafe owner. 

"How many other Hunks do you know?" Hunk asked, and the table laughed.

"What did you play?" Allura asked.

"Well, Shiro played drums. I played bass. Keith played guitar. And Pidge played this weird piano..."

"Synth," Shiro helped.

"Do you have any embarrassing stories?" Allura asked, batting her eyelashes at Shiro. He tried to suppress his blush. Keith flinched, he knew that Shiro had plenty, and would spill everything if Allura asked. He kicked Shiro lightly under the table and his friend snapped out of it. 

"Sooo, Lance, gotta girlfriend?" He desperately scrambled for a subject to land on. Keith rolled his eyes internally. 

Lance sipped at his latte, "Nope." 

Keith looked down at his tea. The Red Rose Original Tea Tag was suddenly very interesting as his cheeks heated up. 

"You?" Lance asked. Shiro shook his head, and Allura bit her lip to keep from smiling. Keith saw it. 

"What do you do for work?" Oh, here comes the small talk. Keith got lost in his thoughts as Lance's pretty voice blended together, "I already know Keith works at the flowershop that Allura owns, and I'm a dance student." 

"I'm a physical trainer," Shiro replied. Keith bowed his head over his tea and their conversation droned out. 

 _Single, single, single._ The word floated in his head.

 _Single, mingle, Pringles._  Keith's stomach gurgled and he sipped his tea. 

 _Single, mingle... Singles mingle..._ A date! This was practically a double-date, or one with two third-wheels by the way Shiro and Allura were flirting. " _I should ask him on a date. The two of us. Together. A date. Date. Dating?_ "

Keith tried to sneak a glance at Lance, but it didn't work because Lance was already looking at him. Keith frowned at himself.  _Come on_. Why was he so obsessed with Lance now? 

I mean, seriously. He wasn't even that cute. With his... navy sweatpants... and that  _tight_  shirt that showed off... abs... with black hems... and the way he flicked his hair to the side... Stupid, you're gonna get whiplash... He's so pretty. 

"Keith?" Shiro's voice. Keith snapped up and blinked.

"What?" 

"It would be sweet if the band got back together. Even if we just play one of our sets."

Keith nodded slowly, "Yeah, okay." 

"Lovely! We'll have to come see you sometime," Allura said happily. Lance looked curious. 

"Hunk's basement, Saturday?" Shiro asked, scrolling through the calendar on his phone. 

"Works for me." 

Allura glanced at her own phone. "I should go," she smiled apologetically, "but this was nice. Let's do it again." 

"Yeah, I should get going too. Gotta open shop," Keith said as he pulled on his beanie.

"C'mon, Mullet. That hat will just make your precious hair all messy," Allura teased, and Keith scowled, tugging on his shirt. 

"My hair is perfectly sophisticated, thank you very much," he sniffed, but they both grinned in the end. 

"I'll walk you to your car," Shiro volunteered to Allura, who sent Keith a wink. They walked out and Lance and Keith trailed behind, coffee and tea taste lingering on their lips. They watched Shiro nearly trip over himself to open the door for Allura.

"They're cute," Keith commented, and Lance nodded. 

"You're gay, right?" The brunette asked suddenly. He looked straight ahead.

Keith startled. "What?"

"You work at a flowershop. You're not attracted to Allura, who's gorgeous. You talk to your friends about boys..." Lance trailed off, and grinned, tapping his head, "My gaydar went off." 

Keith shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. 

"Yeah," he said, "I mean, I guess. I don't really know." Lance tipped his head.

"Well, I'm bi, just so you know."

"Oh." Keith really didn't know what to say. What an intellectual. "That's cool," he said lamely, and immediately regretted it, flicking his eyes to Lance, who seemed unbothered.

"Well, I've got class, so I'll see you around, Flower Boy." Lance began to walk to his car, but Keith called out.

"Hey, Lance?" He licked his dry lips nervously. "Can I take you up on that dinner offer sometime?" 

Lance smiled so brightly that, for a moment, Keith forgot the sun was in the sky. No, it was on Lance's lips. His sunshine smile. 

"Absolutely." Lance started his car, reversed out, then drove off. 

Shiro walked back to Keith and elbowed him slightly. "Fuck, I'm already in too deep." 

Me too Shiro. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed~ next chapter will get into some backstories and the band!


	4. 4-Band Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some backstory and the band is back together! yaaay! (Guys, it's been a long night- writing 3 chapters straight haha I love you guys thank you for all the support<3) here's the link to what i was aiming for for pidge and keith in high school: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/03/2a/77/032a7751fbae53f59f8ae6601d74de73.jpg  
> and here's a link to the song that got me in the mood to write this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nH7bjV0Q_44  
> [lets do this shit]

_"Hey, guys," Keith says quietly from the stairs leading down to the basement. The band sits in the basement, eating chips and listening to music._

_"Keith!" Hunk says enthusiastically. He's thinner now, but still loveable and big. Shiro's shorter, he doesn't have his streak of white hair, and his jawline is soft. Katie... Katie looks tired. Her headphones hang around her neck, and she wears one of Matt's sweatshirts._

_Keith makes his way down the stairs and picks up his guitar, strumming it thoughtfully. "We should write our own song sometime," he says quietly. The band looks up._

_"I nominate Shiro. He seems like he's good with poems and lyrics," Hunk announces. Katie plays a few chords on her keyboard and looks up at Keith._

_"I think that would be fun," she says hesitantly and makes space for Keith to sit between her and Shiro. He picks at the loose strings in the holes in his jeans and rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner. He puts on his glasses._

_"We could be rock stars," Shiro jokes, and the group laughs quietly. It's a dream._

Keith paused, his knuckles inches away from Hunk's front door. He hadn't been here for years. Sighing, he smiled himself. Just some old memories. 

He knocked twice, then stepped back. 

Hunk opened the door within seconds and the smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies wafts into the warm air outside. "Keith! My dude! Glad you could make it." 

"Wow, Hunk. It smells really good." 

"Right?" Hunk beamed, "Everyone else is already downstairs."

"Thanks, man."

Hunk's house had the feel of 'lived-in'. Most things were worn (the sofa, the pots, the table), torn (the drapes, the aprons hanging up, the giant quilt on the sofa), or in some sort of disrepair (almost everything else). The kitchen was pretty much the only thing that was clean. 

The basement stairs were carpeted and sunken, but soft. The basement 'studio' consisted of two large amps, a drum set, two bass guitars, a synth stand, and an electric and acoustic guitar. Hunk's uncle had donated most of the things, but all of the members had pitched in at some point. 

"Hey," Keith said as he walked down the stairs into the dim light. Pidge looked up from her computer. 

"Hey, Keith. I'm just reprogramming my synth. Was I even in high school when we started this?" 

"No," Shiro replied, "Your brother- it's Matt, right?- introduced you to us. He was one of Keith's friends."

"Child labor," Pidge mumbled, adjusting the wires that lead from the synth to her computer. 

Shiro sat in front of his drumset, patting his knees rhythmically. Keith handed him a set of mini congas, "Try these."

Keith made his way over to the acoustic and sat up against the wall. Chords, chords... it had been a while since he'd played but he still remembered the chords from their old songs. Voltron had mostly been a cover band, but they'd had a few original ones too, to make themselves feel established and not like some rip-off. 

They'd dropped the band because of college commitments, but secretly they had all loved the careless recklessness of being in a band. They never made any CDs or put on any concerts, even for the neighborhood or their parents, but messing around was fun too, pretending they were big-shots in Hollywood with paparazzi and screaming fans. 

They'd go to the park with Keith's guitar at night and play their songs where no one could hear, Pidge holding her cam-recorder, the screen flipped out. They had even taken Shiro's truck out and Keith had stood in the bed of the pickup, screaming their original lyrics into the wind as it ripped the words from his lips. 

Keith smiled to himself. Of course, he'd never normally do that- their high school had been seasoned with marijuana, and while he had never used, behavior expectation was pretty low, which influenced him. 

High school was tough. Shiro was never messed with because he was so tall and buff, and Hunk didn't have a problem because he was so loveable, but for Keith and Pidge, it was a different story. 

Keith had been what his mother had called "very dark". Pidge had told him he was "dangerously emo". He had a lip ring, naturally dark hair, and wore dark clothes, but it was only when people started commenting on it that Keith really started changing. Hot Topic was his best friend, along with eyeliner and the occasional sooty black lips. He practiced menacing death glares in the mirror at home.  _Yes, Mom, I'm sure it's just a phase_. 

Aside from this, he often spoke his mind without filtering it and got into fights because of what he said. He earned plenty of nasty labels and got 'swirlies' and uppercuts to the stomach, his books knocked out of his hands, stealing his homework. 

Pidge had it worse though. Her given name was Katie Holt, but things started changing when her father left and her mother changed their last name to her maiden name, Gunderson. Pidge wasn't the most popular because of how outlandishly smart she was, so in elementary school and the beginning of middle school she was teased and left out. Maybe it was because she had always felt like she was a boy, or maybe it was because she wanted to be more like her brother, who was popular, strong, and well-respected, but in the end of middle school, she started transitioning. 

Keith had been friends with Matt at the time, and he remembered Matt being bewildered as Katie started binding her chest and buying guys' clothing. This also in her freshman year of high school, so it was even worse. Her short frame made her an easy target, and then they came up with more ways to torment her. When she cut her hair, students would block both bathrooms, taunting her, yelling, "Which are you?"

The teachers were no help, as they refused to do anything until she chose her gender, not even stop the bullies. Physical and emotional abuse intensified when she went to adults, so she seemed to suffer in silence. It got so bad that she had to be homeschooled for half of sophomore year. He came back as Pidge Gunderson, identifying as a boy, and had a strong kick as well as the capability to hack your social media page and leak every secret you had if you messed with him. 

Keith glanced over at Pidge. She had told them when she had first joined the band that she didn't care what gender they referred to her as, ass long as they accepted her. Her shell had softened a bit, and, aside from her frequent stinging sarcasm, she was really kind and sweet. 

Keith found the right chord he was searching for and smiled a bit. There were several thumps of thumps of cabinets opening and closing, and then Hunk paraded downstairs with a huge plate of cookies and four glasses of milk. 

"Bon Appetite."

...

"Keith, check that chord," Pidge said, pressing a note on her synth. Keith adjusted his fingers until the two notes matched. 

Shiro smacked his drumsticks together, "From the top!"

They played.

They stopped.

They adjusted.

They started over.

They laughed.

It was kind of just like high school, all over again.

...

"Guys..." Pidge said from her computer, "What do you think about Battle of the Bands?" 

Keith nearly choked on his cookie. "When is it?" Shiro asked calmly.

"4 months," Pidge replied, reading through the website.

"I dunno, can we pull that off?" Hunk asked nervously. 

Shiro rolled the idea over in his head. "I think that if it's something we want, we have nothing to lose." 

Pidge nodded, "It wouldn't hurt to try."

"It would hurt. My pride. When we lose," groaned Keith, flopping onto his back.

"C'mon, we don't know if we don't try!" Hunk said encouragingly. 

"We  _do_ know- we'll come in last and I'll remember why I never follow any of my dreams," Keith mumbled, turning his face into the carpet. 

"Don't be a drama queen," Pidge snickered and nudged his sneaker.

"Keith, my man, we're totally doing it." Hunk grinned. Keith sat up and rubbed his eyes. Shiro clapped him on the back as the color drained from his face.

"Okay..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (omfg i dont know about you but im gonna go sleep now) I lurv you guys~~~ i love comments and feedback <3 do you like where this is going? lemme know! :) see ya soon


	5. 5-Sharpshooter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a date! a klance date! a carnival klance date! cute!

Keith sat glumly t his desk at the flowershop, flicking a stand of kinetic balls the rhythmic clicks doing nothing to help him focus. Yesterday, he had told Lance he wanted to go on a date. It hadn't occurred to him at the time that he actually need to think of a place to go. They'd already done coffee, he wasn't a morning person so breakfast was out of the picture, dinner was too formal for someone like Lance, and Keith was too self-conscious to bring Lance to his house immediately. The beach was too forward for a first date, but the park wasn't romantic enough. 

Keith sighed, frowning. How was he gonna- The bell on the door ringed happily, pulling Keith out of his thoughts. He looked up, and his face relaxed. 

"Hey, Allura." Her sunny face was glowing as always as she looked around her shop, analyzing what had sold, what hadn't. 

"Hello, Keith," her eyes smiled, "Something wrong? You look tired." 

Keith looked sheepish, "You know me too well." Allura slid up to the counter and poked his forehead.

"What's wrong?" 

"Lance," Keith admitted, and Allura's face lit up as she clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oooh!" she shrieked, a mischevious grin on her face as she wiggled her eyebrows at Keith, "I knew you two would be adorable together!" 

Keith rolled his eyes, "Well that's not gonna happen unless I can think of somewhere to go for our first date."

Allura's expression dropped. "Are you daft?"

"Ally, just tell me, I feel stupid enough without you patronizing me." 

"That's because you  _are_  stupid!" Allura put her hands on her hips, jutting out her chin, "The Carnival."

Keith sat back in his chair. "No, Allura. Absolutely not."

His boss deflated again, "What? Why not!" 

"I get sick! All those creepy, spinning rides, and the weird carnies, and the bright lights..." He trailed off. Allura didn't budge. "And... and..." Keith's mind scrambled for another excuse, "what if Lance get's sick too?"

Allura placed her hands on the desk and sighed. "Keith, Lance is a dancer. I've seen him do 12 pirouettes in a row. He's not gonna get sick."

There was no getting out of this. And it  _was_  his only option unless he could think of something better, which was unlikely. "Allura... If I puke all over him, I'm blaming you."

"Yes, of course," she said excitedly, "Now call him! You have the day off on Saturday! Use it!" 

"Will do," Keith replied weakly, pulling out his phone. 

"I'll be in the storage room!" Allura paraded into the back, pleased with herself, but popped her back in again, smiling slowly, "And... if Shiro happens to call, just tell him I'll text him."

Keith groaned, "Ew, that's creepy. My boss dating my best friend... ugh... But yes, I'll tell him that." 

"This is why I hired you, Keith! To get all your hot guy friends!" Allura laughed happily and vanished into the storage area. Keith turned back to his phone, scrolling through his contacts, heartbeat increasing little by little, and he didn't realize he was on autopilot until he was hearing the robotic tone ring and he was holding his phone to his ear. It rang for a while, and Keith was about to hang up- he was terrible at leaving voicemails.

Suddenly, a muffled sound and Lance's voice was through the phone. 

"Hey, Keith," he said, sounding slightly out of breath. 

"Is this a bad time? I can call back later..." Keith bit his lip nervously, tapping a pencil against the counter.

"Nonono, it's fine, I was in study hall." Keith nodded slightly, then remembered Lance couldn't see him.

"Well, um, do you like carnivals?"

...

The date was set for Saturday night at 8. The carnival was right by the beach and closed at 11. Keith packed a small drawstring gym bag with at least 3 types of anti-acid, stomach-settling meds, and a full bottle of Advil. He also threw in a can of pepper spray, just in case. His mother had given it to him, along with a rape whistle, when he had moved to go to college, but he kept the two items in a shoebox in his closet most of the time. 

Keith smiled to himself at the thought of his mom. She was tough, strong, and sassy, but when it came to her only child, she turned into a soft teddy bear, packing him snacks in his backpack all through high school. 

Keith didn't even look in the mirror as he left the house at a quarter to 8; he'd just end up deciding he needed to change again. Shiro had helped him pick out his outfit the day before, and, even though he felt like a girl obsessing over clothes, he trusted Shiro's judgment and wanted to look good for Lance. Of course, Shiro had made him look vaguely emo too, in a small black v-neck t-shirt that hiked up his stomach when he raised his arms, dark wash jeans, and a red flannel button-up tied around his waist. Keys, wallet, phone, shoes- no wait, red converse this time. 

From his motorcycle, Keith could hear the sound of the carnival from what seemed like miles away, palm fronds and warm air surrounding him. Cheerful synthetic accordion music, the screams of joyriders, laughter, and talk and- holy SHIT, that ride looked terrifying. "The Zipper" It's sign read in electric red and white. Keith winced. Please, no. 

... 

Keith wandered aimlessly into the parking lot, slipping by security because he could pretty much park anywhere. Weaving through cars, he tried to park close to the entrance, which was made up of a giant arch of balloons. The sun had set an hour ago, but the light from the rides and vendors were bright enough. Keith parked in front, and texted Lance.

**I'm here**

The reply was almost immediate.

**On my way ;)**

Keith tried not to smile too big, and all he had to do was look at "The Zipper" and his stomach flew to his throat. Leaning against a bale of hay, he waited for Lance, picking at a loose thread on his flannel. 

A few minutes later, the squeal of bad breaks and a muffler that was even worse reached Keith's ears, and he looked up. Pulling in front of the arch was a cranky black pick-up truck with a backseat, bass-blasting something pop-y. The passenger seat door opened, and someone- nope, that was Lance, hopped out, exposing the horrendous music. Several male voices whistled at him from inside the truck, and someone shouted: "GO GET 'EM, LANCE!" Lance laughed at his friends and walked backward, watching them struggle to close the door he had left open. "Don't forget to pick me up, you asses!" He called, the door slammed shut, and the car sped off, music fading away. 

Lance turned and Keith felt his hands shaking. Lance spotted him and waved enthusiastically, jogging towards Keith... and he looked amazing. A white shirt with the "NASA" logo, a jean jacket with patches, and black jeans. And of course, his freaking Adidas. Lance adjusted his plain black ball-cap over his hair and threw an arm over Keith's shoulder, warm and close and he smelled like cheap cologne, but it was nice. 

"I'm glad you picked this place," Lance said happily, "I've been wanting to go for a while but my idiot friends think it's lame." 

Keith blinked, nervous, "Do  _you_ think it's lame?"

"No, no, don't worry, cutie, you're fine," Lance assured him, and they walked into the fairgrounds together.

The stands were packed with cute stuffed animals and toys, all cheap but still all cute. Lance offered Keith a piece of bubble gum and blew a bubble, popping it with a smack. They walked around the fair for a few minutes, and that's when Lance spotted The Zipper. 

"Holy crap, that looks epic," he said loudly, and Keith felt his stomach lurch. 

"It sure does," he said, but he must not have sounded enthusiastic enough because Lance gave him a critical look, quirking an eyebrow.

"Did you bring me on a date to the fair... even though you're afraid of heights?"

Keith nearly swallowed his gum, "Well... it's not really the heights... I just watch a lot of YouTube and I see a lot of videos where carnival rides break and shit..." Keith stared into Lance's blue eyes, trying to relay the fear.

"Listen, man," Lance turned and gripped Keith by the shoulders. His face turned stone serious and his eyes deepened. Keith was expecting something deep. He should've known better. "It's called YOLO!" Lance shouted, and turned away, looking up at the massive ride, the two-person cages swinging back and forth with small squeaks. 

Lance turned, looking for something in the vendor area, his eyes caught and he grinned at Keith. "If you can beat me at that water-balloon-filling game, I'll promise not to drag you on The Zipper... but if I win... You have to go on with me, got it?" 

Keith nodded, determined. "You're going down, weirdo." 

They made their way over to the game, and the whole time, Lance had this smug look on his face, but Keith was unnerved, cracking his knuckles to get ready. When they approached the vendor, an elderly man with a red and white striped apron, Keith paid before Lance could protest, and they each picked up the water guns. Across the table from them, on the wall, were clown heads, with open mouths. 

"All ya gotta do is get the biggest balloon," the vendor explained, and the two boys aimed, Lance holding his gun up by his cheek. "Ready? Go!" Water jetted out of the guns, and Keith struggled to keep his aim steady. He didn't even dare to look at Lance's balloon as he focused, squinting at the target. His water balloon filled up slowly. All too soon, the buzzer sounded and the water stopped. Keith stepped back and looked at Lance's. It was at least two times larger than his balloon.

"Shit," he mumbled, and Lance whooped with pride, grabbing Keith's hand. 

"Let's go!" He shrieked, and took off at a sprint, weaving through people. Keith stumbled, then ran behind Lance obediently, smiling to himself as Lance's warm hand surrounded his, dark tan against Keith's pale complexion. 

Lance stopped briefly at the ticket guy, shoving a strip of tickets in his hand, and then climbed into the cage, letting go of Keith's hand. Keith held his arm, more nervous than he cared to admit, and looked at the structure, trying to see any loose joints, any malfunctions.

"Keith." Lance was smiling. "It's okay. I'll be right next to you." His teeth were clean white when he smiled, and his brown hair was messy from running. 

"Okay," Keith squeaked, and climbed in next to Lance, pressed together. The ride manager shut their cage door, and the ride started up. pinning Keith against the seat with a padded bar. As soon as their cage started moving, fast and rolling over and over in flips, Lance found Keith's hand, holding on tight, and howled into the wind, voice barely loud enough to get over the other screams of sheer terror and excitement. Keith pried his eyes open, tense but okay. He was okay.

After a minute or two, they stopped. They were at the top of the ride, hanging upside down, and Keith looked over at Lance, who was grinning. 

"Not so bad, right?" Lance said, out of breath. Keith gulped. Then the ride slowly started moving backward. The two froze and Keith's heart began to accelerate. 

His shriek got lost in the wind as they were flung backward, the ride in reverse. 

"Lance!" Keith screamed and looked over at the brunette as they flipped and spiraled. Lance looked over too, "I like you a lot!" Keith said loudly, and Lance grinned, hair going in all directions.

"What a way to confess, mullet-head! I like you too!"

...

"Mngh..." Keith collapsed to the ground dramatically, eyes closed, "Lance, I might actually puke on you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey heeey heey! New chapters out this weekend, so stay updated! Hope you liked this chapter, and don't worry, keith and lance's first date isnt over yet ;) much love~ <3


	6. 6-Sir Dab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yoooo~ enter: Sir Dab, keith making pancakes, shiro likes melanie martinez, and a blurb about keiths life. mostly a bit of a filler, but it's just me getting good footing for the next chapter ;)

After an excruciatingly long procession of ride after ride, the fair started to close. Keith and Lance walked down the aisle of vendors, the salesmen calling out for last minute rounds. Something caught Lance's eyes and he stopped, Keith nearly losing him in the crowd. 

The brunette was looking at a dart station, with balloons on the opposite wall. "That's adorable," Lance said quietly, and Keith knew immediately what he was looking at. Possibly the largest teddy bear he'd ever seen, fluffy, brown, and holding a plush heart in its shapeless paws.

Keith discreetly looked into his wallet for cash, then pulled Lance to the vendor, a bored-looking girl with straight corn-silk hair, who took Keith's cash silently before Lance could protest, and handed him 5 darts. 

"Keith, no," Lance said, trying to be stern, but his smile escaped his lips anyway. 

"Keith, yes." Aiming carefully, Keith drew back with a dart. A flick, and a pop- Keith hit the first balloon. And the next, the next, the next. 

"It's five balloons for the bear," Lance whispered, and Keith nodded, weighing the last dart in his fingers. Flick, pop. The teenager handed Lance the teddy bear, who grinned goofily at his gift. 

"You're so sweet," Lance crooned happily, and Keith rolled his eyes.

"Let's go, weirdo."

As they walked back to the lot, Lance looked down at his phone, suddenly he looked irritated.

"What's up?" Keith walked slowly beside Lance, as they were trailing in the back of the crowd.

"It's just my friends, they don't wanna pick me up. It's alright, I'll get a taxi." Keith was already shaking his head.

"Why don't I give you a ride?" He gestured at Lance's wallet, shrugging, "You don't have any cash anyways."

Lance looked up at him and quirked a smile. "Yeah... okay. You sure?" Keith nodded, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, blinking at Lance as the moonlight bounced off his blue eyes.

"Oh my god, you drive a  _motorcycle_?" Lance said excitedly, clapping his hands to his cheeks. 

"Yeah..." Keith said slowly, amused by Lance's reaction.

"You're so cool," Lance teased, but then frowned, "but where's Sir Dab gonna go?" He was genuinely concerned for the safety of the teddy bear. 

" _Sir Dab_?" Keith was skeptical. 

"Sir Dab is very dignified and respected, thank you very much," Lance replied in a nasally voice, sticking up his nose and pouting his lips. 

"Yes, of course." Keith proceeded to take the bear from Lance and stuff it into the back hatch in his motorcycle, and it barely fit. Lifting the seat, Keith pulled out his helmet and the spare he carried, handing the latter to Lance. He was expecting Lance to complain, but the dancer shoved the helmet over his head without protest, bouncing with anticipation. 

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Lance slid onto the bike after Keith and slid his arms around Keith's stomach, interlacing his fingers loosely. Keith felt the warmth through his shirt and he smiled to himself under his helmet. Keith meandered through the parking lot, following the flow of traffic to get out, but once they were on the main road with no traffic, he accelerated and felt Lance tighten around him, chest on his back, chin on his shoulder. 

"Thanks, Keith." Lance's whisper made it through the wind. 

...

"Is this you?" Keith asked, slowing. 

"Yep." They were stopping in front of a huge house, but it didn't look expensive, just built to hold a lot of people. It was rustic, with its peeling paint and screen door. The porch light was on. 

Keith and Lance climbed off the motorcycle, and Keith pulled Sir Dab out of the hatch, handing him to his owner. 

"I had a fun time tonight," Lance said and smiled softly at Keith. It was like his usual crazy antics had been replaced by a quiet, shy teenager. 

"Me too," Keith said in turn, then added, "but you have to pick out the place next time." 

Lance smiled wider, "Next time?" 

Keith turned red and fumbled for a hold on words, "Uh, that is, if you want to, um, do that. Sorry."

Lance burst into laughter, and he stepped forward, placing a warm hand on Keith's shoulder, but it was closer to the curve of his neck that his thumb brushed Keith's neck. "You're too cute, mullethead," Lance said endearingly.

"When did I go from 'cutie' to 'mullethead'?" Keith grumbled, and Lance finally grinned his normal smile. He walked backwards towards his house, and waved, "I'll call you!"

Keith waved and watched to make sure Lance got inside before mounting his bike and starting back home.

That night, as soon as he got home, he stripped down to his boxers and fell into bed, giddy and blushing about Lance as he fell asleep.

...

"IN THE END, AS WE FADE INTO THE NIGHT, WO-O-O-OH!" Keith screeched at his spatula as he made breakfast, his iPod blaring Black Veil Brides over his speakers. He was in an especially good mood that morning, so much that he had skipped the insanely sugary cereal he normally had and scoured the kitchen until he had everything he needed for pancakes, mixing everything as best he could. 

Normally Keith was a light sleeper, waking up at nearly everything, but the previous night he had slept like a rock, not waking up once. 

_Lance_

_Lance_

_Lance_

Keith smiled and flipped the pancakes with 'artistic flourishes' (one fell on the floor in the process). He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and, for a split second his heart thought it was Lance, but his head reminded him that Lance had class in the morning, and if he wasn't there, he was practicing with Allura at the gym.

"Hey," Keith picked up, not even bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hey, Keith," Shiro replied, and Keith leaned against the counter, eyeing his tasty pancakes with hunger.

"What's up? Band practice?" Keith tried to grab a pancake and immediately regretted it as he nearly burnt his fingertips. 

"Yes, actually. Can you make 6 tonight? Hunk's cooking dinner." 

Keith hesitated on purpose, then said in a high British accent, "Yes, I seem to have an opening in my  _obviously very busy_  schedule."

"What's got you in a good mood today? Did the date go well?" Keith tried to grab another pancake, throwing the hot disc on a plate before it could burn him again.

"Yeah, I think so, actually. He's supposed to call me soon. On the other hand, you're pretty much already dating Allura, she was talking about you a few days ago."

Shiro cleared his throat, and Keith snickered, "Was she now?" Shiro was trying to sound calm but Keith knew he was blushing like crazy. 

"Indeed, indeed. Wait... hang on. Stop talking for a second." Keith listened carefully to the line and recognized the song. "Are you... listening to Melanie Martinez?"

Shiro's laugh was warm and embarrassed, "I like her, okay?" 

Keith shook his head, "You're weird."

"I have good music to get back to now, I'll see you later Keith," Shiro shouted as he cranked up 'Pity Party' and Keith hung up before Shiro could start singing.

...

Keith spent the day at the shop but had time to do a lot of work for college, and he reminded himself that his classes officially started soon. The professors had sent all the students work to do before school started so they could jump in with the lectures, but Keith's classes actually started on Tuesday. He had to make sure to tell Allura to hire another worker to cover his shifts while he was in class. 

Keith was already living in his own apartment, so he didn't have to rent on campus, but he was still fairly close to the school. He wasn't very nervous for 'the first day of school', but looked forward to the distraction- he felt like he'd been idle for the whole summer. 

But now, things were finally kicking off. He was in a clumsy, makeshift band from 6 years ago, he was going on dates with a beautiful guy, he was majoring in Sociology and minoring in something like Psychology because his mother told him he could pretty much do anything with psychology. 

This was good. Life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you like? <3 coming up next: date #2, some more Voltron practice, some good shiro-to-keith heart-to-heart


	7. 7-Videogames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shiro plays the clarinet, lance wants to sleep over, videogames, fluff, and cuddles ;)

"Shiro, no, don't do it-" The studio was filled with a terrible shrieking noise as Shiro blew into the clarinet, face turning pink quickly from exertion.  

"Make it stop!" Pidge groaned, burying her face in a pillow. Suddenly, distinguishable (but still awful notes) started coming out, and Keith was left in dumbfounded awe and fits of laughter as Shiro began to play the Star Wars theme on the clarinet, except there were screeches every other note. 

When Shiro finally stopped, Hunk was the only one to applaud. "Thanks, Hunk," Shiro said calmly and looked over at a blank-faced Keith and Pidge with her head still stuck under the pillow. She peeked out.

"Is it over?" 

The band had been practicing for two hours, trying to remember all their songs and piecing together new notes and rhythms. This recent development of Shiro trying to play the clarinet came from Hunk digging it out of one of his uncle's old boxes of moldy reeds and loose screws and screwdrivers. 

"God, that's hard," Shiro breathed heavily and handed the clarinet back to Hunk. 

"You sounded great, man," Keith said with a straight face, but couldn't hold it for long.

Shiro laughed along, but Pidge flopped back into the pillow, groaning. 

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air- Keith, you wanna come with me?" Shiro stood, and Keith nodded.

"I think that's a good idea," Hunk commented, "I'll try to revive Pidge." 

Keith followed Shiro up the soft stairs and outside onto the porch. It was dark out, but not too dark. Shiro fumbled for something in his pocket and Keith recognized it as a cigarette pack.

"Shiro... I thought you quit... months ago."

"I did." Shiro's voice was low and almost sad as he picked a cigarette from the pack and flicked his lighter, holding the flame to the end of the white stick until it lit. Shiro and Keith watched as the cigarette burned, ashes blowing away in the wind along with the smoke. 

Shiro had quit smoking when he got his new job and realized physical trainers shouldn't smell like smoke, so he quit. Keith had been over at Shiro's house a lot when he was going through his cravings, making sure he didn't slip out and relapse. 

Shiro was strong about a lot of things. He was physically built well, he was emotionally there for his friends and family, and his heart was strong, but mentally, Shiro was bad at handling things all by himself. He needed to be dependant on things, and when he had picked up cigarettes, they had become his new attachment. It was hard for him to quit, but he pulled through with that, and now was buying cigarettes just to burn them.

"They don't actually hurt you if you don't smoke them," Shiro said in a small voice, and Keith rolled his eyes.

"Quit trying to be like that guy from The Fault In Our Stars, you sap. I know you cry when you watch that movie."

Shiro chuckled under his breath and leaned on the railing. He flicked the cigarette out against his jeans and rubbed his arms, tattoos rippling under his large muscles. He had half-sleeves on both arms, with meaningful swirls and images that Keith liked to stare at when Shiro let him.

Suddenly, Keith's phone buzzed and he pulled it out, checking-

**Hey, can I come over?**

Lance?

...

There was a knock on the door just as Keith finished throwing his laundry into the basket to be taken to the laundromat, and Keith rushed to open the door. 

Lance stood on his doorstep, standing in the apartment hallway. His hair was messy, and he looked slightly disheveled with a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. He carried a backpack, but it didn't look like it was holding much. 

"Hey, I'm really sorry about this. Living in a house with eleven other people can get a little hectic sometimes."

"It's fine," Keith opened the door for Lance, "I don't mind." 

Keith's house was moderately cleaner than before, but still a bit messy. The front room was the living room on the left and the kitchen with a small table on the right. Directly in front of them down a hallway was his bedroom, and there was a closet and a bathroom on either side of the short hallway. 

His couch was old and a bit ratty, but it was in tact and it smelled good, and the foam cushions were comfy as hell. A modest TV with a WII hooked up to it was set up on a stand to the side, and a basket of controllers lay beside it. His kitchen was lit from a ceiling light and floor lamp that arched over the window. Keith's bed wasn't visible from here, but it was piled with laundry and unmade. 

"Woah, you have a Wii?"

...

"Did you just blue shell me?!" Keith tried to get out of the way but was blown off track. Lance's avatar advanced to 1st place, and he smirked.

"Eat it, mullet."

The two sat cross-legged in front of the TV, each holding a controller as the synthetic music played from the game. Lance flopped onto his back, defeated. 

"I never knew it was so hard!" he said, flustered. Keith laughed and looked over at Lance. 

"Oh, wow." Keith's eyes caught on Lance's stomach. Several dark tan inches of bare skin showed where his shirt had ridden up, and Keith not noticed that Lance had a  _belly button piercing_. Lance sat up and looked at his stomach, looking at the piercing too.

"Did it hurt?" Keith asked, and Lance shook his head. 

"Not too bad. I got it when I was 16 and I came out to my parents." Oh, that's right. Keith needed to tell his mom... later. 

The piercing was a small crystal stud, white and shiny.

"Well, I think it's cool," Keith said finally, and Lance smiled a thanks, then yawned. He spotted Keith's guitar and flopped up onto the couch. 

"Play me something." Keith reached forward and turned off the Wii.

"I'm not warmed up," Keith said nervously and got up to get some water. Lance pouted.

"Please?" Keith sighed and looked back at him. He looked adorable.

"Fine..." but you have to go right to bed after, okay?" Keith felt like a mom, saying things like that, but Lance looked tired and Keith didn't want to have to be responsible for a grumpy Lance in the morning.

"Absopositively," Lance replied, and stretched, laying down on the couch. 

Defeated, Keith picked up his acoustic and sat on the floor, cradling the instrument in his lap. One, two, three, four. 

He struggled to remember the chords, but after the first few, he was fine.

"Blackbird singin' in the dead of night," he started, and his voice was low and quiet, and he didn't look up at Lance.

Keith lost himself, in a good way, in the gentle chords, singing softly to Lance. 

When he finished, he looked up shyly. Lance was smiling kindly, but he didn't say anything at first.

Keith got up, leaned his guitar against the wall, and went into his bedroom to get a blanket. Lance's eyes were fluttering shut as he came back into the room, but the beautiful boy stayed awake just long enough to say, "I like your voice, Keith," in a whisper. 

Keith unfolded the blanket and laid it gently over Lance's sleeping form, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. 

"Goodnight, Lance," Keith whispered, and he turned off the lamp and went to his own bed.

...

Keith woke up to movement beside him. He remained still, his eyes closed, and listened. The heavy breathing of someone who had just woken up. Lance. 

The boy crawled into bed behind Keith and slipped beneath the covers, pressing up against Keith, who was only in a t-shirt and boxers. But Lance was like a heater, and he slung an arm over the dip in Keith's waist, his warm breath against Keith's neck. 

When Keith was sure that the blue-eyed beauty was asleep again, he moved in micro-movements, slowly lining his body with Lance's warmth, tangling their legs and feeling the rise and fall of Lance's chest behind him on his back. 

Keith sighed slightly, and fell back into sleep, warm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, but I hoped you liked it :) This is the last chapter tonight, as it's 1 am, but I'll make sure to put another chapter out either tomorrow or sunday :) have a good day or night, much love as always <3


	8. 8-YOLO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cuddles in the morning, having coffee, some cute shit, first day of school, voltron practice but mostly just talking about school and lance ---> set up for next chapter ;)

Keith liked the way Lance's legs pressed behind his own, how his face was buried in Keith's neck, how he was so warm they had kicked off the duvet during the night and were now only covered by a sheet. 

Keith opened his eyes, and it was still dark out. He looked to his alarm clock wearily to see that it was just mere minutes before his alarm was set to go off. He sighed, tired, but reached out and canceled the alarm, disentangling himself from Lance gently. The brunette shifted and rolled onto his stomach, but thankfully didn't wake up. 

Keith started his morning routine, quietly walking to the kitchen to start the coffee pot- he knew he'd need it. The sun was rising, but the sky was cloudy and grey, so it didn't make much of a difference in the dark apartment. Keith assumed that Lance would still be asleep for the next few hours- he seemed like that kind of guy.

Next, to shower. Keith took a shirt and pants from his dresser, then walked to the bathroom, the tiles cold on his feet as he took off his socks. The steam from his hot shower fogged up the window and wrapped Keith in a blanket, almost comforting as Lance, when he finished his shower. Towel-drying his hair, he quickly changed into his clothes, which consisted of a grey long-sleeve shirt with a red baggy sweater over it, two white stripes on each side on the biceps, and thin black sweatpants with cinched ankles. 

Keith stepped outside the bathroom and was slightly surprised to see Lance standing in front of the coffee pot, pouring himself a mug. 

"G'morning," he mumbled, and stood next to Lance, waiting for the coffee. Lance finished, handed the coffee to Keith, and then slouched behind him, wrapping his long, dark-tanned arms around Keith's waist, leaning on Keith's shoulder as the florist poured dark, aromatic coffee into his mug.

"Your shower's loud," Lance murmured, and Keith nodded.

"Sorry for waking you up so early. You should go back to bed."

"I should," Lance replied, but he didn't budge until Keith moved to the fridge to get the milk. 

They sat quietly at the table-for-two, sipping steaming coffee and talking about what they were doing for the day, when they'd see each other again. 

"I have work until closing, then I'll probably head over to Hunk's place for our band practice," Keith said, then looked up at Lance, "My first day of school is tomorrow, any tips?"

Lance winked as best he could in his early-morning sleep-deprived state, "Wear something snazzy," he managed for advice.

"I'll keep that in mind." 

"I have class at 9... then I'll go to practice with Allura, then I work from 5-11."

Keith perked up, "Where do you work?" 

"Fuego Bueno." Keith thought about this for a second. Fuego Bueno was a Mexican restaurant on the other side of town and was famous for its deep-fried peppers, earning its name 'Good Flame'. Did this mean Lance was a waiter? Strangely, Keith could see Lance doing something like that. Or maybe he worked as a chef? Keith checked his phone and sighed.

"I should get going." He got up, "Please, stay as long as you want. Help yourself to food, whatever. I... Can I text you soon?"

Lance got up too, carrying his mug to the sink, "Yeah, of course. Maybe you can meet my crazy family." Keith hoped he was joking.

Things were awkward as hell as Keith wound a scarf around his neck and pulled on a beanie, checking his pockets for his wallet, phone, and keys, and slipping on his shoes. Lance paused from washing the mugs and pulled down Keith's scarf just a bit, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Keith was blushing furiously as he trudged out, and his face was still red as he kicked onto the main road. 

...

_Next day_

The first day of school, up, up, up. Keith jumped out of bed, ready to fight battles and conquer the day- until he almost tripped over his jeans that lay on the floor, and nearly smacked his face against the wall. 

Trying again, Keith started his routine with the usual, trying to stay positive. Of course, his coffee tasted weird after brushing his teeth, and he wasn't confident in his outfit, but it didn't matter. Keith was trying to live the day like Lance, and even whispered "YOLO" to himself as he checked himself in the mirror. 

Wearing a grey hoodless sweater, the hems and sleeves a darker shade, dark jeans, and maroon suspenders that hung down by his thighs, along with his favorite, classic red beanie, it was okay. He looked younger than he was, but that was okay too. 

Stopping by Hunk's, Keith grabbed a croissant and was sent off with a 'good luck!' from his friend. 

The college parking lot was huge, so Keith parked by the building his first class was in, pulling out his schedule to make sure he remembered the right class number. Here goes.

...

"Guys, it's so... hard! But boring at the same time! Like, they give us these long lectures about absolutely nothing, and then they give us these giant essays to write!" 

Keith was sitting upside-down on Hunk's couch, his feet on the wall, head hanging off the edge of the cushions. Pidge nodded sympathetically, but then went off to say, "My classes are all easy." 

"Of course they are, Pidge, you're a freaking genius," Keith retorted, but he wasn't actually mad. Hunk was re-stringing an old guitar while Shiro held a tuner, and the smell of peach cake wafted down the stairs.

"There's this one professor I have-"

"Keith, when are you seeing Lance again?" Shiro asked suddenly, and Keith paused, righting himself on the couch.

"Dunno," he said simply, and Hunk grinned at him, eyes crinkling at the edges.

"You guys sound so cute together. Keith and Lance, power couple," Hunk said happily, and Keith tried not to roll his eyes.

"We're not even technically  _dating_ ," he said, "We've only been on one  _date_." 

"So what? Have you ever read any love stories ever?" Hunk protested, nodding to Shiro to put the tuner down. 

"I've read Romeo and Juliet," Keith said, and crossed his arms.

"Well neither of you are gonna die from this, so why stress? If you like him, you like him, and if you like him, and he likes you, and you like  _each other_ , then isn't that reason enough to start dating?" Hunk looked hopeful.

"Hunk, as sweet as you are, we've only been on  _one date_. And he crashed at my place yesterday, but that doesn't even really count."

"Then get him to ask you out on a date!" Hunk exclaimed, and Keith sipped at the green tea Hunk had slaved over, cupping the warm mug in his hands. 

"He told me it would be fun for me to meet his family this morning, but I don't know if he was joking," Keith said, and Hunk's face lit up.

"Oh good! You can meet your in-laws and learn more about Lance and get closer to him." Hunk wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that, though," Keith said, unsure. "I get nervous when I'm in front of new people. I'd probably just end up embarrassing myself and then Lance would never want to date me." 

"You're gonna have to meet them sometime," Shiro agreed with Hunk, "Why not make the second date the date that confirms that you're dating?" 

Keith shrugged, "I just don't wanna ruin this. I like Lance. A lot. I don't wanna screw things up when I meet his family. Aren't you supposed to meet the family when you're actually a thing?"

"I don't think it matters," Pidge chimed in, "Just be confident."

"Great pep-talk, guys," Hunk said enthusiastically and got up to get the peach cakes.

"Yeah, I'm really motivated now," Keith replied dryly, and buried his face in the closest pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, next chapter we meet lance's family and theres gonna be some actual klance action! I'm super excited, I hope you are too~~~ much love! 
> 
> btw, here's two pictures that I really liked but they're a pair so I thought i'd just put the links down here :) credits to the maker!
> 
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/70/95/c5/7095c535b53fdaa4acfdcc95d74f5e7e.png
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ca/ca/37/caca37d8f244dbb4c69df47582dfaa84--high-school-aesthetic-klance-aesthetic.jpg


	9. 9-Mullet and Weirdo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lots of lance. ballet, family, speaking spanish

**Remember, 5:30**

Keith scoffed, and texted back.

**dont worry i know**

Keith knew that  _he_  was the one to be nervous about meeting Lance's parents and family, but the brunette's constant reminders on when to pick him up from the dance studio proved that Keith wasn't the only one. 

It had been a week since Lance had slept over, and the two had bumped into each other a few times at Hunk's, laughing it off, and Lance had even stopped by the flower shop when Keith was at work to say hello. 

It turned out Lance hadn't been kidding about meeting his family, and so they had made plans. Lance had told Keith a few things over the week to know about his mom and how to impress her. When Keith had asked about Lance's dad, he had merely brushed it off, saying that his father would be fine. 

It was a Saturday, so business at the flowershop was running smoothly from customer to customer, especially because of the new products Allura had ordered, including floral beach totes, Vans, and various school supplies for the college students.

Time passed quickly, and honestly, Keith was okay working on a Saturday. Better than sitting at home doing nothing. Keith was closing early, though, because he had to leave to get changed for dinner at Lance's, but he got held up for nearly half an hour, trying to help an indecisive senior wobbling through the aisles of flowers, trying to pick the right one for her granddaughter, who was pregnant, which, while Keith thought was adorable, also ended up making him change into his nice clothes in the back storage room, checking his hair in the floor-length mirror in the dressing room before locking the door and kicking off down the street towards the studio. 

Lance had given Keith the address, so it was easy to find, but Keith didn't really come down to this part of town often so he decided to venture inside the studio. He checked his phone. 5:26. He was early. 

A skinny receptionist with a tight bun like the ballerinas pointed Keith in a direction down a short hallway when he asked for Lance, and Keith walked slowly down it, peeking into every door. On the third door on the right, Keith found them. 

However, his eyes were met by something both beautiful and strange. Lance was dancing, but it wasn't like before. He was dancing  _ballet_. With pointe shoes. Keith watched as Lance, the weird, loud, slightly obnoxious teenager lifted onto his toes, and then over, onto the flat of the pointe shoes.

He twisted to the side, arms arched, then stepped forward, stooping low, one arm behind him. Then off, Lance balanced on one arch as his other leg lifted up, one arm in front, one in back in what Keith only knew from Allura was an arabesque. 

Keith pushed the door open, and Lance dropped onto flat feet, surprised. 

"Keith," he said, eyes wide. He looked down at his pink shoes and grinned sheepishly, "Lemme change."

Keith quite liked his outfit. Blue leggings with mesh over his calves to his thighs, a periwinkle off-the-shoulder shirt. Lance looked  _pretty_. 

Lance walked to the changing room, and Keith looked at his own reflection in the studio's wall-length mirror, a wooden bar cutting across the middle. He messed with his hair a bit, then realized it was just gonna get messy again when he put on his helmet.

A few minutes later, Lance emerged, wearing a grey shirt with dark blue sleeves, jeans, and a white hoodie, unzipped. He carried his jacket, olive green with a large orange stripe on each sleeve. 

A duffel bag and his jacket hung from his elbow, and he had swapped his pointe shoes for Adidas. The two walked outside, and Keith turned to Lance, quirking an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you did ballet." Lance shrugged.

"My professor requires us to take two classes. I take modern and pointe, and then Allura and I do hip-hop."

The sun was setting, and it cast pink across Lance's face as they stepped into the parking lot. The two mounted the motorcycle, and Lance resumed his position, leaning around Keith, and Keith pulled onto the main road.

...

"Remember, we're just friends right now," Lance said quietly as they approached his house, "My family has two stages of relationships, 'friends' and 'practically married'." Keith nodded, wiping his palms on his jeans. 

The porch wrapped around the front of the house and three rocking chairs were settled around a small table, a pile of books along with an empty pitcher set on top. 

"Also..." Lance looked sheepish, "We speak a lot of Spanish." Keith didn't have time to ask before Lance opened the screen door, which creaked, and called out into the warmly-lit house. "Mama?"

Loud voices trailed in from the dining room, and Keith looked around quickly. Directly in front of him was the foyer, to his left was a staircase, next to it a living room with two couches and a couple recliners. 

"Lance! Did you bring your friend?" An accented woman's voice called out.

"Si, Mama!" Lance kicked off his shoes and motioned for Keith to do the same, then stepped behind him to take Keith's jacket, his warm fingers trailing over Keith's back. 

"You're Spanish?" Keith whispered, and Lance shook his head.

"Technically, Cuban." He led the way into the dining room, which was taken up by a huge table, all but three seats taken. Several large paintings hung up around the room, unique and using every color imaginable. 

The kitchen was on the other side of the room, and a short, plump woman was bustling around, stirring this, flipping that... it was all very warm and comforting. The walls were painted 

"Lance!" Two small children ran up to Lance, throwing their arms around his legs. 

"Hola, hermanos," He said warmly, ruffling the boy's hair. He looked up at Keith, and Keith almost did a double take. Lance's eyes... the deep blue... he looked so happy. The warm lights made his skin look deep and smooth, just like the melted caramel Keith had thought of when he had first seen Lance. The dancer's shoulders were curved protectively as he held his siblings, and his smile was sweet.

"This is my family," Lance said quietly, and then he was back to normal, straightening up to look at the rest of his family.

( _guys I know that this is probably all wrong, but this was my... interpretation (?) of his family, and I'll probably have to change it all when the names and relationships are released, but for now i hope it's okay <3) _

"Guys, this is Keith, my friend."

"Bienvenido, Keith," an older man with the same skin tone as Lance greeted. His mustache led down to his beard. Keith wondered if Lance could grow a beard if he wanted to. 

"Dinner will be ready in 10 minutes! Make yourself at home, Keith," the woman in the kitchen said, not looking up from the pot of something she was stirring, setting a timer simultaneously.

Keith and Lance sat at two empty chairs across from each other, in the center of the table. On Keith's right sat a pretty young woman, her dark curly hair behind her ears, her skin tone like Lance's as well. On his left sat a heavy-set 20-something guy, who reminded Keith of Hunk.

Conversation picked up again and Keith soon learned most of the relations to Lance around the table. There were two families, one with lighter skin, the Mcclains, and one with the dark caramel, the Sanchez's. The lighter side was Lance's mom's side, including his mom's parents, whom everyone just called Bela and Belo, Lance's aunt, Ana, and her twins, Hugo and Maria, who were in their early thirties. 

On Lance's dad's side were the darker tones. Lance's uncle, Raoul, and his son and daughter, Fredrico and Maria, 21 and 26 respectively. Lance also had his two younger siblings, Carmen and Sebastian, who were in elementary school. It was confusing, but Keith wanted to know. 

"So, Keith, what do you drive?" Raoul used to be a sports-car driver, so he was the reason for the multiple paintings of expensive cars that hung on the wall, among the others.

"I drive a motorcycle," Keith said, then tried to elaborate, "It's a Harley. CVO Softail."

"A motorcycle?" Lance's aunt said, concerned.

"I think it's manly," Raoul said, "Show's character."

Keith breathed a slight sigh of relief, and Lance's chin dipped a millimeter at Keith, eyes encouraging him. 

"Dinner!" Lance's mom said loudly, and Ana got up to help bring dishes to the table. Everything smelled delicious, and Keith's mouth watered as he watched the plates. Yellow rice with red peppers, seasoned grilled chicken thighs and wings, a large bowl of black beans, and grilled peaches with thick balsamic crossed over them.

"This looks delicious, Mrs. Mcclain," Keith told Lance's mom, smiling.

She looked surprised for a second, then blinked, "Thank you, Keith." Keith pretended not to notice the puzzling way she then shot Lance a look between anger and sadness, and how Lance looked at his plate. Keith bit his lip. Did he do something wrong?

Raoul, sensing the tension, suddenly piped up. "Let's eat.  _Bendecir esta casa_."

...

"Mrs. Mcclain-"

"Call me Elena, dear," Lance's mom corrected, and Keith nodded.

"Elena, can I do anything to help?"

Dinner was over, and Keith felt pleasantly full, the taste of sweet peaches still lingering on his tongue. Elena was washing dishes in the sink, Maria drying them and putting them away.

"That's alright. Lance!" The brunette walked in from the other room. 

"Si, Mama?"

"Presentar a tu amigo a tu padre, por favor."

"Mama-"

"Por favor."

Lance looked pained. "Let's go, Keith."

Keith followed Lance out of the dining room and to the door outside. "Where are we going?" Keith asked, nervous. Didn't padre mean father? Lance didn't answer.

"This way," Lance said quietly, and turned on the street, walking up the slight hill past the other houses in the neighborhood. It was dark out, but the moon hadn't risen yet. The streetlights were soft on the sparkling pavement.

The two walked in silence for a while, then, as they approached a T-intersection, Lance turned to the left. Keith looked ahead, and his eyes went wide. They were approaching a graveyard. 

"Lance?" Keith reached out and took Lance's hand intertwining their fingers, feeling Lance's warmth against his cold. Lance didn't squeeze back, but didn't pull away. Something was wrong. Of course it was. 

The pavement turned to gravel, and their footsteps went from taps to crunches under their shoes. A long, winding road led down the center of the graveyard, headstones poking up in even rows. Flowers lay on some graves, and others were bare. Lance walked without slowing, eyes set. 

Keith looked around the graves, noting the little ground-lights that stuck up from the grass with stakes, casting shadows around the site. Keith distracted himself from Lance's dark sadness by reading the names and dates on the stones, the gentle curves of the letters when the family had enough money to choose an expensive font. Keith was so caught up in thought that he almost kept walking when Lance stopped. 

Lance walked forward slowly, and Keith bumped his shoulder, squeezing his hand. I'm here. 

"Hola, Papa." The gravestone was large and grey, seemingly plain, with dark letters carved into it. 

**Carlos Sanchez-Mcclain**

**Beloved father, son, and friend**

**Descansa en paz**

"My father," Lance started to Keith, "was a drunk in his twenties. He stopped when he met my mom. He promised to never drink again when they had me. 8 years ago, Mom was pregnant with Carmen. I came out as Bi to him. I was in seventh grade. He'd been deeply depressed for a few months because his dad died- they'd been really close. 

"When I told him... I guess it was too much. He went out that night, and we didn't hear from him for two days. It turned out he was in the hospital with a failing liver, but more than that, the doctors had found a tumor. We came to see him, the whole family did, but he didn't want to talk to me. So I ignored him."

Lance was crying now, and Keith cupped his other hand around their intertwined. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything else," Keith tried to soothe him. 

Lance shook his head violently. "It's my fault for not seeing him. He was my  _dad_. And I left him. He asked to leave one week later, and they let him. He died sleeping. And I never even said goodbye."

This time, Lance turned into Keith and buried his face in Keith's shoulder. wrapped his arms loosely around Lance as the boy cried into his shirt, hiccuping as salt water ran down his face. Keith stared at the grave emotionlessly, coming to terms with the fact that this was to man to cradle Lance in his arms, to come to his little league games, to push him on the swings. 

Keith hugged Lance tightly, and didn't let go until Lance stopped crying, rubbing his eyes on his hoodie sleeves.

"Sorry I snotted on your shirt," Lance mumbled, voice thick.

"It's okay," Keith replied, looking up at Lance.

Lance turned back to look at his father's grave. "Papa, me gusta este chico." 

Keith looked down, racking his brain for the right words.

"Sir..." Lance looked up, surprised. "Gracias... por Lance."

Lance grinned tearily, and he grabbed Keith's hand. "You're sweet. Let's go." 

The two didn't look back as they walked back home.

...

"Des...pa...cito," Lance sang in a sultry voice, and the whole room whooped. Keith burst into a grin as Lance stood on the couch, holding an empty bottle of root beer as a microphone as he kept up with the music, Spanish flowing from his lips.

"Favorito, favorito, baby," Rosita called with the music, and Fredrico laughed, imitating Lance's dance moves. 

"Pasito, pasito, suave suavesito," Raoul screeched, and Sebastian and Carmen burst into giggles.

The grandparents watched in silence, and Keith was sure they were dumbfounded from the lyrics. Lance made eye contact with Keith as he sang the chorus, because he knew Keith knew what it meant (he had innocently asked Keith to look up the lyrics earlier that week- he'd been planning this.)

Keith turned beet red as he remembered. Well, shit. 

...

"Thank you so much!" Keith called from the door, and there was a chorus of 'goodbye's that met him.

"That was so fun!" Lance said loudly as they walked down the driveway to Keith's motorcycle. 

"That was... something, alright. I wonder what your grandparents thought," Keith replied, and Lance laughed, blushing.

"I think you've had a little too much caffeine, and you're overtired. You should get some sleep," Keith said, and picked up his helmet. 

Lance slinked across the seat so Keith couldn't sit. "Oh yeah?"

Keith nodded, looking down at Lance's ocean blue eyes.

"Well, I think that I'm just happy to be with you. And you wanna know what I also think, since you obviously know what's best for me now?"

Keith tilted his head to the side, "What?"

"I think you should kiss me."

Keith blinked, and Lance stood up, and Keith reminded himself that he was at least 2 inches shorter than the brunette. 

"Really?" He whispered. Lance nodded, just the smallest of movements. 

Keith reached up, placed his hands on Lance's shoulders, and pressed their lips together. Lance's hands found their way to the small of his back and the side of his neck, thumb brushing his cheek. 

It was awkward at first, and there weren't any fireworks or climaxes of dramatic movie music, but it was sweet, closed lipped, and soft. Lance pulled away a millimeter, and opened his eyes, "Are you standing on your toes?" 

Keith let out a short breath of embarrassment. "Maybe. Now shut up and kiss me." He balanced on the tips of his converse and let Lance run his hands through his dark hair, mumbling things like 'stupid cute mullet' before reconnecting their lips. 

When they pulled away, Keith fell back to flat feet, looking up at Lance's slightly ski-jump nose and sweet caramel skin. 

"I'll see you soon," he murmured, and Lance stepped away, hands hanging by his sides as he watched Keith pull on his helmet and start his motorcycle. 

"Bye, Mullet."

"Bye, Weirdo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> next chapter out soon


	10. 10-PRIDE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh hay its a pride parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a song that I liked with this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIycUnlJFpE  
> it's called Better Days by Hedley
> 
> and here's a picture: https://scontent-sea1-1.cdninstagram.com/t51.2885-15/s480x480/e35/19761611_131975890720767_7275845749575778304_n.jpg?ig_cache_key=MTUzMDcwNDk0MDg0NjQ1NzY0MA%3D%3D.2
> 
> (sorry, I post on wattpad first usually so I find pictures a youtube videos for my chapters and i like to include them here) oooh what a good transition to tell you guys something! I have a couple (like 8) more works over on my wattpad account (@_that-strange-one_) so you can follow me over there if you want- i've got some mysmes, some yuri on ice, and a few more :)- OR you guys could let me know if you want me to post some more stuff over here? lemme know!

"So," Shiro said, breathing fast on his treadmill, "Gimme the detes." 

Keith looked his best friend dead in the eye, who was trying to figure out finger-guns, and monotoned, "Don't ever do that again." He was sounding dangerously like a dad trying to decipher teenage lingo.

"Agreed," Shiro laughed nervously, "But seriously, you  _do_  have to tell me how it went."

Keith rolled his eyes, "It was  _nice."_

 _"_ Did you kiss?" Shiro hedged, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yes." Keith smiled a bit, and he refrained from touching his fingers to his lips, remembering the sweet kiss.

"With tongue?" 

"Ew, Shiro, you're gross. Stop talking. I'm trying to run here."

Shiro amped up the incline on his treadmill, "That's a no," he confirmed.

Later, when Keith was lazily spotting Shiro as his friend bench-pressed, he realized he could torment Shiro just the same. 

"So how about you and Allura?" Shiro didn't blush- his face was already red from exersion- but he did smile. 

"We're good," Shiro said, and Keith batted his eyelashes innocently.

"Going steady? Kissing with tongue?" He cooed.

Sweat poured down Shiro's face, and he looked uncomfortable as Keith asked, "Have you met her family?"

Shiro looked sheepish, "Not yet."

"Ha! I win! Family is more important than kissing with tongue, anyways. I have everyone's approval too."

"Even the dad?"

Keith hesitated, "Yeah, I think so." He snickered, "I've heard that Allura's dad is pretty intense." 

Shiro winced, "Really?" He faltered, and Keith caught the weight, smirking.  

...

"Good afternooon~ Mullet," Lance said slowl as he swung into the flowershop, carrying two coffees.

"Afternoon, Weirdo," Keith replied, leaning forward on his elbows. He was working at the flowershop after his classes, and Lance had offered to stop by Hunk's to get them each something while he had a quick break between lessons. 

"How do you drink your coffee black?" The corners of Lance's lips curved up, "It tastes like shit."

"I think it tastes good," Keith said, taking the cup Lance held out to him, "Thank you."

"Yeah... Hey, I've gotta question." 

"Shoot," Keith mumbled, gulping down hot, rich coffee.

"What are we?" Keith looked up. Lance looked awkward and nervous as his eyes shifted around the store. "'Cuz, like, I don't wanna just be a guy you have around."

Keith blinked.

"Uh... Either you want me or you don't, you know?" Lance tried to smile, but his lips just twitched a bit. Instead, he pressed them tightly together in a thin line after Keith's next words.

"I dunno."

"You don't?"

Keith struggled for something to say. Yeah, of course he liked Lance, but maybe it was because of Lance's dad, or maybe is was something else...

"Okay, well let me know." Lance tried to smile like it was no big deal. He started to walk away. Keith bit his lip, eyes squinted, he needed something to say, anything, just anything, Lance, don't leave,  _now_. 

"Wait, Lance!" He called out, and the brunette turned around, hope in his eyes. 

"I like you," he blurted, like that would change everything, but Lance's face fell anyways.

"Do you?" He sounded sad and hurt, and then he walked right out the door. 

Keith buried his face in his hands, "Fuck."

...

"Something wrong, Keith?" Shiro asked, and Keith looked up from his guitar. 

"Hm?" They were in Hunk's basement, practicing for Voltron. 

"Well you seem pretty upset," Hunk tried, "Like, depressed." 

Keith strained a smile, "It's nothing."

"Lie!" Pidge called in a low, agitated voice. She was typing furiously at her computer, "It's Lance, right?"

Keith deflated. "Yeah."

"You're terrible at keeping in your feelings, bro," Hunk said honestly, plopping a chicken nugget in his mouth. 

"Called it," Pidge added, not looking up from her computer screen, then yelped as the green coding screen went blank black.

"What? I thought things were going well," Shiro said, concerned.

"It  _was_  going well!" Keith said, "But Lance wanted a relationship... and I'm a dumbass."

"True that," Hunk hooted, eating another chicken nugget before offering the rest of the plate to Keith. 

"Don't worry about it, Keith," Pidge piped up unexpectedly, "I've got it." Keith looked at her, surprised. She waved his gaze away, typing again. 

"Let's get playing," Shiro said warmly, sounding just like a dad. 

...

Keith didn't see or hear from Lance for the rest of the week. He dutifully wrote his essays and solved proofs in math for school, and worked his shifts at the shop, but the loneliness clawed at his stomach, and he missed Lance so fucking much, he just couldn't get the courage to call him, and i f he did, what was he supposed-

"WAKE UP, KEITH!"

There was a loud banging at Keith's front door and he jolted up from the couch, a sad, half-eaten pint of  Ben and Jerry's sitting on the floor, his TV screen reading "Are you still there?", the reminder from Netflix from when he was watching Criminal Minds the night before.

The loud banging came again, "KEITH!" That was definitely Pidge.

Keith stumbled up from his couch and slumped to the door, clumsily turning the knob. Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge stood in front of him, bright and alert. Shiro in a galaxy sweatshirt, Hunk with casual greys and orange, Pidge with a green flannel around her waist. 

"What do you want," Keith glanced at his watch, "At 8 a.m. on a Saturday? This better be good." 

"Wow, man, you look like crap," Hunk commented, but Keith was too woozily tired to reply. 

"We're going on a road trip!" Pidge said excitedly, and Keith pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hell no. Not today. Too early. You guys have fun." 

"Too bad you don't have a choice!" Pidge looked pleased with herself.

"Keith, you've been depressed about Lance for a week. You need to get out of the house."

"I still  _am_ depressed about Lance. Let me be depressed," Keith groaned at Shiro.

"I brought a taser," Pidge said, and held up the small, boxy weapon.

"Where the fuck did you get tha-"

"Hush! If you're not outside in 15 minutes, I'm coming in." 

"What the hell... It's too early for this shit." Keith rubbed his eyes. 

"15 minutes!" Pidge yelled as Keith closed the door on his friends.

...

"Where are we going again?" Keith asked from the backseat of Hunk's minivan. Shiro sat shotgun while Pidge was in back with Keith, with Hunk mumbling along to the lyrics playing over the stereo as he drove. 

"You'll see," Shiro said vaguely, sneakers resting on the dashboard. 

Hunk's car fit his personality. A green air-refreshing tree, 'wintergreen', hung from his rear-view mirror, and it was always comfortably warm inside, with Hunk playing with indie-pop and chillout music. The mini-van was often dirty, mostly from seagull poop and mud and sand, and the footwells had bags of chips and snack food and several mini six-packs of soda as a constant.

Keith detached some root beer, still cold from Hunk's fridge. He settled back into his seat, ignoring the electric pounding emitting from Pidge's headphones, the brunette's head tipped back, her eyes closed. Keith looked out the window- he could never fall asleep in a car- and let the scenery blur in his eyes, soaking into Hunk's strong bass system, lazy voices lulling him into a state of peace. He closed his eyes, but remained awake until Hunk called out.

"We're here!" Keith opened his eyes and looked out the window. Oh my god.

"PRIDE PARADE" A giant rainbow banner hang between two windows on the street. They drove slowly, and were directed into a huge parking garage. Everywhere, people milled around, wearing crazy rainbows and tutus and signs.

"A pride parade?" Keith didn't know if he was surprised, excited, scared, or relieved.

"Yeah. We thought it would be fun..." Pidge trailed off, taking off her headphones. She and Shiro shared a look, and Keith raised his eyebrows. 

"What's going on?" He asked slowly, but his friends just smiled like little innocent rays of sunshine, and Hunk drove up the spiraling ramp, looking for a parking space. Keith looked down at his attire. Olive green jeans, a black halter tank top, Doc Martins... He ran his hand through his hair- he wasn't dressed for this... and he didn't really know if he was actually truly gay. He'd never had a big coming out speech, he'd never told his mom, but it wasn't like he was hiding anything, it just never occurred to him. 

What was he going to do here? A group of pretty bedecked boys walked by, laughing, and Keith peered at them through the tinted window. Could he  _be_ like one of them? Could he  _like_ one of them? No, he liked Lance... and Lance was a boy. And Keith was a boy.

Boy plus boy equals gay, right?

Hunk pulled into a parking space. 

"We planned this after you told us about Lance. We thought this could help life your spirits," Shiro explained, and pulled out a freaking  _eyeliner pencil._ As he applied it, like a fucking expert, he continued talking, "Plus, it's gonna be fun. We're all LGBT, right?"

"Trans," Pidge said, and Keith smiled at her.

"I knew Pidge, but you two?" Keith looked at Shiro and Hunk.

"I'm a straight ally," Hunk said, "but sometimes I think I could be bi..."

"Shiro?"

"I'm pan." Keith looked stricken.

"Really? Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

"I didn't think it really mattered. I like everyone."

Keith blinked. "Okay." He looked to Hunk, "And good for you, buddy." 

"I've got flags in the back," Hunk said, pulling the key out of the ignition and opening the door.

...

"This is really crowded," Keith said quietly as the group weaved through the people. Everywhere around him was rainbow. Every single color, ever flag, every smile of people of all shapes and sizes. Someone was blaring music through a speaker, and laughter rang through the air. 

"Let's head into that Starbucks," Pidge suggested nonchalantly, and Keith peeked over the top of people's heads to the green logo. They pushed their way to the coffee shop and Keith sighed a breath of relief as they settled inside the store, which was a lot less crowded. Keith looked around at the warm light, and the smell of coffee washed over him.

"Keith?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii :) I'm so sorry for taking so long to update this! theres another chapter too for a bonus because it took me so long :)


	11. 11-5 Reasons Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some freaking cute shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iwmdq_clSQ  
> ella eyre - we dont have to take our clothes off  
> picture: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/7b/fc/a1/7bfca1be1dcd2a871906e1168faf852c.jpg

Keith turned too quick because  _Lance?_ Sure enough, the brunette stood to Keith's right, leaning against a tall table with high stools. He looked stunning. Blue fishnet stockings that climbed up his waist, visible above the hem of his light-wash ripped jeans. A cropped white sweatshirt with light blue rings around the sleeves. Lance's blue eyes popped with eyeliner and mascara. There was a rainbow face-painted on his left cheek. White converse with rainbow laces.

Keith blinked. Why was Lance here? He noticed the rainbow flag that lay folded on the table. He was here for the parade too?

"Well,  _what a coincidence,_ " Pidge said slowly, loudly.

"Lance! Who  _knew_  you'd be here!" Hunk joined, and Keith turned to them. He wasn't sure if he was angry or happy.

"We should go..." Pidge trailed off, "See you later!" She giggled and shoved Hunk and Shiro out of the door.

Keith paused, then turned back to Lance. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Your friends are fun," Lance said, and blew a bubble with his gum. He didn't look angry.

"How did they...?"

"Pidge texted me," Lance explained, and pulled out his phone, then showed the screen to Keith. A text.

**5 reasons why you should give keith another chance**

**1\. hes really nice and kind and funny when you get to know him better and hes not always so awkward**

**2\. hes really cuddly and caring and tries to bake food for us even though hes shit at cooking. he knit us beanies one year for christmas**

**3\. hes really protective and gets jealous easily because he doesnt want the people he cares about to get hurt**

**4\. hes good at singing and playing the guitar and writing sappy love songs. hes probably written one for you already**

**5\. hes obsessed with you and talks about you all the time and he just gets confused and weird sometimes so dont blame him too much**

Keith felt his heart swell for his friend.

"I thought he was right, so I agreed and he told me to come here."

"Oh." Keith knew he had to say it, because after a week of torture, there's no way he couldn't.

"I should tell you," Keith started, but the door opened before he could tell Lance, and a guy wearing several rainbow tutus and nothing else poked his head in.

"The parade is starting! Everyone who wants to participate should come out now!" Lance slid off his stool and grabbed the flag off the table. Keith realized there were two- a rainbow and a pink, purple, blue. Bi.

"You coming?" Lance asked, and handed the rainbow flag to Keith, who took it numbly.

...

The parade was loud and fun and beautiful. Men kissed women, men kissed men, women kissed women, people with no genders and people with both. Thick, thin, tall, short, blonde, black, it was all the same. Keith held his flag around his shoulders like a cape, and kiss lips were swollen as random strangers kissed him too. His jealousy hedged when people kissed Lance, just like what Pidge had said, so he took Lance's hand, intertwining their fingers, and walked closely to the brunette, eyes set.

The parade took short breaks, and on the second or third, Lance took out his eyeliner pen and held Keith's chin his his hand, warm, warm, warm, the heel of his palm on Keith's cheek as he drew black above his eyelashes. The magenta lipstick was next. Keith pressed his lips together as they slid with new color.

Keith felt his pride surge as the crowd chanted to their steps, "We're here, we're queer, we're pissed, resist!" Keith joined. Lance was singing "Same Love" until his voice was hoarse and ragged. Keith grinned.

At the end of the parade was a long, grassy field area with 20 or so stands set up, selling tie-dye shirts and scarves and dresses, jewelry, food, and knick knacks. Keith and Lance remained together, going around to the different stands and laughing as they sampled crazy foods. A vendor handed Keith a lemon and dares him to eat the whole thing. Keith did. Lance took a video of it.

A large stage was being set up in the middle of the ring of stands, and people began to lay picnic blankets in front of it settling in with their flags and banners. Keith and Lance spotted Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro with Allura at their own blanket.

"Allura's here?" Keith asked, and Lance nodded, adjusting his hand in Keith's. They walked slowly, weaving between people who were settling in too.

"Hi, boys!" Allura waved, and Keith waved back, smiling at his boss, "You two are just adorable," she continued, and Keith and Lance looked at each other.

"I've gotta tell you something later," Keith said, and Lance nodded, big blue eyes...

Shiro looked dreamily at Allura, who had her hair up in space buns, wearing a teal skirt that went to her mid-thighs and a flowy crop top. A rainbow flower-crown settled around her forehead.

"How was the parade for you?" Pidge asked, picking absent-mindedly at her nails.

"It was super cool," Lance said, his magenta lips smudged from stranger's messy lips.

Keith edged over to Pidge and put his hand lightly on her shoulder, looking right into her amber eyes. "Thank you," he said earnestly, then added, almost sheepishly, "I guess I should start calling you a guy now, too." Pidge smiled slightly.

"Yeah, you're welcome. And thanks."

The speeches began with a strong, buff man wearing an oversized grey cardigan and rainbow shorts, his chest painted with different swirls of color, glitter over his skin. "Testing, one, two," he said grinning, and the audience laughed.

"Hello, beautiful people," he started, and a few whoops called out to him, "My name's Chris. I'm co-organizer of this parade, and I'm gonna start the stories with my own."

It turned out that Chris came from an all-white, suburban, no-difference, picket-fence neighborhood, and his grandparents, who he lived with, had sent him to a 'camp' when he was 8 and wearing his older sister's lacy pink Sunday-school dresses. His grandfather was furious when he came back, unchanged. Years past and Chris showed no interest in 'becoming straight', despite his grandfather's forced sessions to the local priest who scolded Chris for being gay, telling him how "sinful it was to be a homosexual", and forcing his grandson to do football instead of art lessons.

At 16, Chris's grandfather kicked him out of the house, his grandmother indifferent, and he lived in a shelter for two years until he could find a place for himself. He was now 21, a successful bar-tender and artist, and organizing Pride everywhere.

He didn't blame his grandparents. They had come from a strict military line of family, and their mindset was not their fault.

Keith looked up at the man, amazed. He hadn't had been through even a mere fraction of this struggle. This man, this community, was so strong... Applause thundered through the crowd at Chris finished.

"All speakers, please come to the podium!" Keith was startled as Lance stood up, and he pulled on Lance's sleeve like a reflex. Blue eyes looked down.

"I'm a speaker." Keith let his hand drop down reluctantly. He nodded. 

Lance walked off their blanket and Keith turned to see the whole group staring at him with wide eyes, all grinning goofily.

"What?" Keith said, confused, and Hunk sighed, smiling into his hand.

...

A number of speeches went by, and Keith listened to every one. Every person held their own story, each story held it's own heartbreak and then resolution. Keith waited patiently for Lance.

6 speeches later, Chris came back on stage.

"Now, for the final speech, please welcome my new friend, Lance Mcclain!" Keith clapped loudly with the crowd. It was just before 5 o'clock. Keith was okay with how fast the day had past. It had been fun. Hundreds of people, 1,000 even, sat on the green, legs splayed out. Shiro's head was in Allura's lap, and he ran her fingers through his hair.

Lance walked onto the stage, and there were a few cat-calls from the crowd, which Keith hated, but Lance winked at the sources.

"Hey, I'm Lance." He started off strong. "I'm bisexual. And I'm gonna tell my story."

The stage was too big to be comfortable standing alone on, but Lance filled it as he stood before the microphone stand, one hand in his pocket, the other resting on the top of the microphone. He slipped it from the stand with a click, then began pacing, looking out at the crowd.

"I was born Lance Sanchez-Mcclain. And I was also born in Cuba. And I was also born to a post-alcoholic, homophobic dad."

Keith felt his chest rise quickly as he realized that Lance was going to be talking about his dad.

"I was a pretty cool kid. I played little league. I was messy and pretty much an immature stereotypical  _boy_ , up until I was... about 12. Those stupid middle school dances. I met a boy there. We can call him Nick. Nick and I went to the bathroom during the slow dance, and we danced alone, it would've been "weird" to slow dance with a boy in front of all my friends." Lance even made quote signs with his fingers when he said 'weird'.

"I realized then that, even though I liked girls... I liked boys too. As you can imagine," Lance grinned, playing with the microphone's wire, "Health class was pretty awkward."

The crowd laughed, and Keith cracked a smile. Didn't he need to be up there for Lance when he started talking about what happened with his Dad?

"So, a year later, I was with my Dad, working on his car with him. He'd been clean for my entire life. I looked up at him as he asked for the wrench and I think I just knew I had to tell him. I didn't even stop when I said it... I think it went something like, 'Hey, Dad, so you know I like girls, right? Well, I also like boys, and that's me.'," Lance paused, "I didn't think it would be so bad."

His face was quiet, solemn. The audience clung to his words. Keith felt antsy. Lance took a deep breath, and said his next line without breathing, "My father went out that night and ended up drinking himself unconscious, we found out he was in the hospital a few days later."

Keith couldn't stand it. He began to make his way up to the stage, slowly.

"The doctors diagnosed him with liver cancer. They said he had months. He refused to take medicine. They changed it to weeks. I blame myself for that. Maybe my Dad would've lived longer I hadn't come out to him."

Keith quickened his pace. Lance's voice quivered with his next line.

"And so, when I went to the hospital with my family, my father refused to see me. Even when he came home, for his final few weeks, he didn't speak to me. He died before I could say goodbye."

Keith approached Chris, who stood at the bottom of the steps of the stage, and they made eye contact. Chris looked questioning.

"I'm with him," Keith whispered hesitantly, tilting his head to Lance.

"Go ahead." Chris seemed nice. He had big muscles and deep, deep eyes. Not as beautiful as Lance's.

Keith heard Lance's voice stutter as he noticed the dark-haired boy coming up the stairs. Keith forced himself not to look out into the crowd until he was standing next to Lance, reaching down to intertwine their fingers. The crowd sighed, a sweet sigh of relief that this beautiful boy wasn't alone anymore.

"Dad," Lance addressed the sky, "I don't believe in God, but I know you did. I hope you're up there in heaven listening to me, and that you know that I love you, and I forgive you, and I'm doing my best to make you proud."

Keith almost cried at that. He looked out to the sea of faces. He caught on one's that were puffy-eyed. He squeezed Lance's hand.

"I know that things like these change us. I want to thank you guys, for being my family too."

The applause was louder than ever.

Before Keith knew what he was doing, he reached to the computer, meeting Lance's eyes for a brief second before holding it to his mouth.

"I'm Keith," he said. "I'm gay," he added. "And I love this boy more than I can say. And- oh my god, this is terrifying- I'm terrified of loving him because it's cliche how I think he looks like an angel and how I've never really loved someone like this before. So, Lance," Keith turned to the brunette, who looked surprised and was beaming, "please, let me love you."

Keith was breathless, and Lance didn't let him catch his breath before their lips were together in a kiss that was fiercer than their first, but still sweet and melting with love and Lance's hands all up in Keith's hair as his tears fell onto Keith's cheeks.

Keith rested his arms over Lance's shoulders like he saw in the movies, and almost lost his balance as the cheers rose over his senses, enveloping him, consuming him in happiness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, that's all for now, but maybe one or two more chapters this weekend! lemme know what you think so far! any suggestions?


	12. 12-The Lance-vestigator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coran coran the gorgeous man and some cool band practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for not updating in so long, things have been really hectic so please bare with me... also the fact that I had absolutely no idea what to do for this chapter until I stumbled across the voltron wikia and was reminded of Keith's birthday... thank you for being patient :) also, not pictured but coranxalfor is legit one of my favorite ships. 
> 
> suggested song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VNV__mV38s  
> heaven - troye sivan
> 
> pic: https://i.pinimg.com/236x/7a/9a/36/7a9a36b59dff5e43bce02e26095015b3--space-kids-voltron-au.jpg  
> its coraaaaaaan
> 
> about the song: not only is this one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite artists, it's also the song troye wrote when he was coming out, so i feel like it has a sort of connection, and I encourage you to watch the MV because it's beautiful... anyways, sorry for babbling, I hope you like the picture, song, and chapter!

After the speeches were over, large bonfires were lit  on the giant green, and the speakers were set up, playing chillout and indie music that only Hunk knew. Keith held hands with Lance on the spread of flannel picnic blanket, big enough for the group, Allura and Shiro looking adorable, Hunk nodding to the beat awkwardly, but he knew the words, Pidge with the stars in his eyes. 

The sun was setting _,_ and Keith looked over at Lance. They had agreed that they were officially together, but Lance hadn't kissed him again so Keith felt slightly hollow, like he had ruined something, then managed to put it back together but it wasn't quite right again. As a perfectionist, he hated this feeling, but he knew that he was the one who was imperfect, while the Spanish-speaking boy next to him was, in fact, the epitome of perfection. 

Chris, the organizer, was over with them too, taking a friendly interest in Shiro as they talked about adult-y stuff. Keith wondered if he and Lance would ever be mature enough to discuss politics or the social-economic structure or taxes. He hoped not. 

As the sparks became more and more visible in the night sky as they lifted up, a middle-aged man with orange hair and a mustache approached the group.   
  


"Allura?" He said, a hopeful smile under the bush of mustache. 

The woman looked up, surprised, then overjoyed. "Coran!" She jumped up from Shiro's arms, who stood up too, standing slightly behind Allura and to her left. Allura threw her arms around Coran and laughed, bouncing with excitement. 

"Look at you, gallivanting around at a Parade," he said in a teasing voice. 

"I know! It's been such a fun day, too. I'm glad I came." Allura turned towards the group. Chris had stood up too, and was talking and slowly drifting away with another group of people.

"Everyone, this is Coran, my... well, he's a family friend, but basically my uncle." Coran was wearing casual slacks, a button up. He looked like an uncle. "Coran, this is Hunk, Pidge, Lance and Keith."

"Ah yes! I saw you two up earlier. Quite an interesting and touching story, if I do say so myself," Coran said, his accent identical to Allura's.

"And this is Shiro." Allura gestured to Shiro, who looked confident and strong but Keith could tell by the way he subconsciously wiped the palms of his hands of his jeans that he was nervous.

"Shiro..." Coran scrutinized the tall, muscular man, sizing him up, evaluating him like a father would to the boyfriend of his daughter, about to go to prom together. "We'll talk later," he said, and Shiro didn't even flinch, and instead managed a charming smile. Keith groaned internally; he had been weird and awkward when meeting Lance's family, and they hadn't even been intimidating! Shiro was a natural... Keith made a mental note to get advice from his best friend on how to act around Lance's family. 

...

"If I'm losing a piece of me, maybe I don't want heaven..." the lyrics of the song drifted up into the night sky, now alive with stars and deep blue and green, as if the universe was prettily bruised upon the dome of cloudless atmosphere.

Keith didn't lift his head from Lance's shoulder as they swayed slowly, holding onto each other as other couples danced to the sweet song, soaking in the starlight as they lingered by the heat of the fire. Cool, damp evening air settled over the ground as people began to pack up their blankets and chairs and bags. Lance smelled like grass and sweat, but not the bad kind. He smelled sweet. Keith nestled his lips closer to the heat of Lance's neck, but refrained from touching the warm skin, not wanting to scare Lance away now. 

Long, tan arms were wound around Keith's waist like a belt, and their chests and torsos were pressed against each other, Keith's arms around the small of Lance's back, comfortably clasped. Lance's chest lifted against Keith's, and when he exhaled, his breath tickled. Keith felt high on Lance, high on the sweet, funny presence. He wanted to stay here forever. Maybe the fumes of weed were getting to him. 

"Keith, Lance, let's hit the road. Shiro, you can go with Allura, we can take the two lovebirds," Hunk was saying kindly, and Keith was forced out of the peaceful bliss. He straightened, and the night was too dark to see Lance's blue eyes. they stayed connected with their hands, each in a sort of exhausted trance, as they walked back to the main street to get a cab. 

Keith squished into the backseat of the cab between Pidge and Lance, both sleepy and calm. As they rode back to the parking garage, Keith glanced up at Hunk, and was glad to see that his friend had a strong espresso in his hand from Starbucks, and he looked wide-awake for the 3 1/2- hour trip home. 

...

Hunk left the radio quiet as Keith cuddled up to Lance in the backseat, Pidge claiming shotgun with a hopeless look at Lance and Keith. It was hard to connect though the seatbelts, which Hunk insisted they wore, but the two found a way to curl next to each other, holding hands on the comfortable seat. Keith yawned, and Lance kissed his bottom lip as his mouth was open, then pulling away, grinning slowly as Keith pouted. They were drunk from exhaustion. Keith thought maybe he cough actually fall asleep in the car... 

...

"He's so heavy... Keith you need to lose weight, fatass." Lance didn't sound happy as he and Hunk lugged Keith up the stairs to his apartment.

"Sorry," Keith replied tiredly, throwing himself through his doorway as he entered his home. Hunk stepped into Keith's bedroom briskly, and when he came back, Keith was struggling to take off his converse. Lance, amused, looked down at Keith, leaning against the doorframe. 

"What'd you do?" Keith mumbled.

"I set your alarm," Hunk replied, and Keith groaned. 

"Goodnight Keith!" Lance called cheerily, and he and Hunk shut the front door behind them.

Keith tugged off his shirt and pants, leaving himself in his black boxers, and walked to the bathroom. He almost laughed at his reflection. He looked pretty, with smudged eyeliner, lipstick. He washed his face, and the black liner smudged over and over until he managed to get it off completely. Smiling to himself, he remembered when he did this every night, washing off his makeup, his cheeks dipping in to form hollows. He brushed his hair, secured it loosely into a small ponytail, and crawled into bed, turning off his lamp.

...

"Lance enters the store of the handsome emo flowerman, and notices that something is amiss! What is it? Find out next time on 'The Lance-vestigator', solving crime and charming civilians!" Keith looks up from his desk, and smiles. His boyfriend is holding his hands together like a gun. "Pew pew!"

Keith smiled and came out from behind his desk. It was a Sunday, so he didn't have classes, but the flowershop was barely busy anyways. He wore his hair back in a ponytail, and Lance ran his fingers through Keith's hair, the best he could, quirking a smile. 

"You're birthday's coming up." Lance didn't phrase it like a question. 

Keith sighed, "Allura told you?" 

Lance hopped up to sit on the counter, pulling Keith towards him. "You don't seem excited," he said, hands on Keith's shoulders, "What's wrong with you?"

"I just don't get why it's such a big deal. Like, it's a birthday, it's not like I won the lottery." Lance pouted.

"That's so sad! I'm gonna give you a good birthday, okay?" He cooed, and Keith rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." 

...

"So it's this," Keith strummed a chord on the electric guitar, "then this," he changed and played a different chord, "then this." He looked up at Hunk, who was nodding, subconsciously mimicking the chords on his bass, "and then you end with  _this_." 

"Pidge, you wanna bang out some chords for 'We Are'?" 

Pidge nodded, and the room was suddenly filled with piano as Pidge worked his way through his own chords. 

"Should we go from the top?" Shiro asked from the drumset, and Keith nodded. He stationed himself in front of the microphone and stretched his fingers over his guitar strings. 

"One, two, three, four."

They had been rusty at first. "We Are" was a cover song, but it had been one of their favorites. Shiro loved it especially because the drum line was so intense. Also, he and Hunk got to sing with Keith as well, so they felt sort of connected.

They had had about 5 or 6 practices so far, and each time, they remembered more and more songs from their High School era. Battle of the Bands was just over 2 months away, and, even though they weren't anywhere close to being a 'good band', they had spirit and hot members. They also got drunk a lot, so that helped with playing, except for Pidge, who was provided with juice packs. 

Keith had felt more confident because of their practices, and had opened up a lot in terms of singing, whereas the first day he had felt awkward and unsure. Now, the lyrics flowed from him naturally and he sang with the sort of passion he had when he was younger. He was happier now though, not like his teenage emo phase, and maybe it was because of Voltron, maybe it was Lance, maybe it was something else. 

Voltron played until Keith's fingers ached and had formed tiny blisters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed :) sorry it's so short! i had to split it in half (the other half is ch 13 ) because it was getting so long but 13 will be lengthy anyways haha


	13. 13-Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's keiths biiiiiiirthday!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um okay before I start, this chapter has some s l i g h t smut, it's just skinny dipping lol i don't know if that counts, but just like,,, if youre sensitive to that stuff, you can skip over it. otherwise, i hope you like this chapter! <3
> 
> song: i dont really have one for this chapter... I was listening to You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, but you can really chose any song for this that's sweet and slow and cute lol  
> pic: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/44/c5/67/44c5672e0824e4e9ae9764d24451c28e.jpg

On the morning of Keith's birthday, his mom called.

"Keith! Hi, sweetheart, how are you? Happy birthday!" She sounded wide-awake and happy, because she, unlike Keith, was a morning person.

"Hey, mom," Keith replied sleepily, rolling out of bed and padding into the kitchen, "I'm good. Just woke up."

"Did Ms. Altea give you the day off?" His mother's voice switched to concern, and Keith knew that if Allura hadn't, his mother would've called her and convinced her to let Keith stay home.

"Yeah, even though I said I would work."

"You always make such little fuss about your birthday, I don't understand." Keith's mother sighed, and Keith made a cup of coffee.

"Please, mom, spare me the hour-long lecture of my birth. Is dad there?"

"Oh, the big lug is asleep. I'll wake him up. NATHAN!" Keith jolted away from the phone as his mom called for his father.

"Anyways, what are you doing today?" Keith's mom asked, and Keith sipped his coffee, black, thinking.

"Well, Shiro said that I should come over to his place, and the guys, Lance, and Allura will come over too." Keith winced. He hadn't told his mom about Lance yet.

"Lance?" She asked.  _Shit, shit, shit_.

"Yeah..." Keith scrambled for words, "He's my-"

"KEITH!" Keith heard his father's voice boom over the phone, "Acxa, hand over the phone," Keith sighed in relief. Saved by The Dad.

"Hey, Dad," Keith said, and sat down at his little table. From the other side of the line came a quick banter.

"I birthed him! I get to talk to him first!" Acxa said, and Keith laughed to himself. Fair point.

"Guys, just put it on speaker," he interrupted, and his parents went quiet.

"CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? WE'RE ON SPEAKER!" his father screeched, and Keith facepalmed.

"Yes, dad, I can hear you loud and clear," he replied quickly, and he heard his mother snicker, "You don't need to yell."

They carried on small talk for a bit, then told him their present for him was in the mail. 

"Please visit soon, pumpkin, we miss you."

"I miss you, too. I'll come home at Thanksgiving."

...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Hunk bellowed as he opened the door to Shiro's apartment.

"Thanks, bud," Keith said, and they bumped fists as Keith stepped inside. Shiro's apartment was a lot bigger than Keith's, and it actually looked like a real house.It was alike to a studio apartment in the way that it wasminimalistic and stylish, but it had multiple rooms and was actually pretty spacious. The front door lead into the kitchen, the stovetop over the oven on the left, with a counter made of wood, like a giant cutting board, next to it.

On the opposite wall stood the large double-door refrigerator with the slide-out freezer door, and next to it the sink, then counterspace with a basket of fresh fruit on the dark 8-seated dining table. A classy sterio system was set up on a shelf on the wall, next to a frosted-glass cabinet that Keith knew held basic medications, bandaids, and office supplies. Next to it was a wine rack with 5 fancy bottles seated on display. Large windows were positioned on the left wall, and an arched doorway lead into another room (Keith knew as the living room, with a creme-colored couch and a red beanbag chair for gaming, in front of Shiro's expensive TV and gaming set) on the right wall.

Beyond the dining table and living room, straight ahead, was a hallway that lead down to the bathroom and the guest bathroom. Shiro's bedroom was positioned in a studio-style-apartment way too, shelved neatly up in the wall, with steps leading up to his bed. It was encased by wooden shades, which were left open and displayed his sleeping area. This was on the wall behind the living room, so everything was neatly packed together. Keith loved Shiro's apartment. He wanted to get one like it when he was done with college and had enough money to buy one like this, and not a shitty single-room.

"We've got cake, we've got kebabs, we've got fruit punch, we've got your boyfriend-" Lance jumped into Keith's arms, interrupting Hunk's words with his own:

"Happy birthday, Mullethead!" he cried out, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist and spinning him. He smelled like cologne and flowers. Keith felt his heart jump at the surprise, but then he relaxed and hugged Lance back, smiling a bit.

"Thanks, Weirdo." It was around lunchtime and Keith was actually feeling pretty hungry as he looked at the combination of Hunk and Shiro's cooking. Allura had made the cake. It was a little too  _pink_  for Keith's style, but he decided it was pretty anyways, with a smooth chocolate frosting and little pink roses and polka-dots everywhere. It was cute.

They rest of the group stepped into the kitchen from the living room, holding smiles. Hunk was wearing his usual yellow sweatshirt, Lance wore a white crop-top with blue sleeves and black jeans with his Adidas, Pidge wore a dark green sweatshirt with black pull-strings and his circle-frame glasses. Allura had dressed up in a pretty white dress with colorful bubbles of color; her hair was piled on top of her head in a bun, a pink headband slid up to keep her hair out of her eyes.

Shiro stood with his arm around her slim waist, wearing a flannel button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He stepped forward when Lance let Keith go, and they hugged tightly for a second before stepping back, Keith shoving his hands in his pockets. He wore sweatpants himself and a Nirvana shirt, and his hair was messily uncovered, absent of his normal beanie.

"Let's eat!  _I'm_  starving but Allura said that we had to wait," Hunk announced, and the group stepped up to the steaming chicken and vegetable kebabs and various other snacks, falling into casual conversation. It was only when Keith sat down at Shiro's table did he notice all the gifts in front of his place.

"Guys..." he said slowly, eyeing his friends, "You know I don't like celebrating."

"Well, suck it up because we're your friends and we love you," Pidge said, and pushed a thin, square gift with a paper-bag wrapping towards Keith, a look of genuine appreciation in his eyes. "Sorry, there's no card."

"That's okay," Keith said quietly, and methodically tore off the paper. It was a CD case. Silver, with 'Happy 19th Mixtape' scrawled in Pidge's handwriting.

"It's got all your favorites," Pidge explained, and Keith's heart felt warm.

"Thanks, Pidge," Keith grinned at the small brunette.

At the end of all the gifts, Keith was on the brink of getting all sappy and emotional. Hunk had given him a book on simple recipes that Keith could manage to cook (because Hunk was worried that Keith was literally living off coffee and take-out sushi) and a pretty set of white coasters with different flowers painted on them he had found at The Kitchen Store. Allura gave Keith a new watch, black but simple and sophisticated, with mother-of-pearl along the face that looked like galaxies. Speaking of which, Shiro pulled out a huge, rectangular box and carried it over to Keith, grinning. After only a few inches of wrapping paper torn off, Keith saw a brand name. "Celestron".

Keith froze, blinking. "No way... Dude, are you serious?" Shiro nodded, smile bright. Keith didn't hesitate to rip off the rest of the wrapping paper, then stepped back, hand over his mouth, eyes wide. "Shiro, holy shit." The beautiful, sleek, black telescope yawned possibilities in front of him, round and smooth and utterly gorgeous. Keith looked at Shiro with doe-eyes. "I love you, man," he said, dumbfounded.

"Hey now," Lance protested, but he too was impressed by the telescope.

"As a friend. As a best freaking friend. You're the best, Shiro. Holy shit," Keith said, and Shiro crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels.

"My wallet hates you now," he finally said, and the table laughed.

"Wait, what about you, Lance?" Allura asked, noting that Lance hadn't given Keith a present.

Lance grinned, "I'm giving my present to Keith later," he said, then wiggled his eyebrows.

"Ew, ew, ew, shut up," Pidge said, mock-gagging.

Lance laughed, "Nono, don't worry, nothing like that." Keith really didn't know how he felt about the whole surprise.

...

The rest of the afternoon was spent:

1.) Gaming in Shiro's living room, and watching Hunk lose at everything and Allura and Shiro beating Keith and Lance in Just Dance, even though the two boys pretty much aced Hips Don't Lie, which was mostly Lance's effort.

2.) Eating cake (Making Keith cut the first slice like a wedding, and then promptly having Lance smearing frosting all over Keith's face)

3.) Watching The Notebook

8.) Doing other various things that included learning how to braid (ft. Allura's hair), trying to teach Shiro mainstream dance-moves, taking 'Which Dance Mom kid are you?' quizzes, and DIY palm-reading.

At around 8, as the light was leaving the sky, Lance stood up from the couch and grabbed Keith's hand, announcing to the group, "Keith and I are going on a walk. We probably won't be home until late. Please don't stalk us."

Keith had been totally taken by surprise of this new plan, but he pulled on his sneakers and walked out the door with Lance anyways, ignoring the rest of the group's suggestive looks at he and Lance.

Keith admired Lance's car in the driveway, a baby blue Ford pick-up, rusty and chipped-paint in some places, but otherwise cute and rustic. Lance jumped into the truck, grinned at Keith, and motioned to the passenger seat.

"Come on, come on!" He looked excited. The air was still warm for October, even at night, so they rolled down the windows and cranked up the stereo to Michael Buble's 'Haven't Met You Yet', and Keith held Lance's hand over the console. He couldn't help but smile to himself. 

"Why are we going to the beach again?" Keith asked, and Lance grinned goofily at him.

"It's a surprise!" 

As they approached the parking lot, Keith noticed that the gate to public parking was locked saying, "BEACH IS CLOSED: HOURS- 6:00 AM TO 7:00 PM ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED"

Keith looked nervously at Lance, who looked perfectly content as he parked his car in a little inlet by some tall shrubs outside the parking lot. 

"Lance, isn't this illegal?" Keith asked. He wasn't afraid, he just didn't want to be caught.

"Hardly," Lance scoffed, and turned off his car, "Let's go."

The sky was gaping wide over their heads as they walked, hand in hand, down to the dunes, ducking under the gate that blocked them with ease. The sand was cold under Keith's feet as he slipped off his converse, and the warm air caressed his skin. Lance slid down the sand to the edge of the water, rolling up his pants. Keith sat down next to him.

The moon shone on the cresting waves, and it was lulling to look at. Keith leaned his shoulder against Lance's and sighed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just admiring the ocean.

"You know," Lance said quietly, "I think the ocean was my first love." Keith blinked he wasn't used to this kind of genuity from Lance. He was always being surprised, he guessed. He looked up at the stars and sighed.

"Then I think mine was the sky," he replied, "And my second was you." Keith flinched; that sounded weird, "I think," he added, for good, self-assuring measure. 

"Let's go swimming."

"I don't have my-"

"So what?"

Lance began taking off his shirt. Keith glanced around the beach, and when he was completely certain there was no one else there, he slowly began stripping as well. Lance was already walking towards the ocean, light falling over his dark skin. Keith looked down at his pale body and sighed. Whatever. He followed Lance to the ocean waves.

"Run in on three," Lance whispered over the calm waves. "One, two, three!" Keith and Lance ran forward, the cold water sliding over their bare skin, and Keith ducked underwater before his shrieks of cold could pass over his tongue. He opened his eyes underwater, but to no avail. It was pitch-black beneath the surface.  

As he surfaced, Lance was laughing breathlessly, splashing cold water over his chest, wading deeper, letting the ocean swallow him up to his ribs. Keith walked towards him and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back out of his eyes. He looked at Lance and stood next to him. 

The stars were in the water too, shimmering off the dark water. Keith felt like he was swimming in a galaxy, with the stars beneath him and above him, and he ran his fingers through the surface of the water, trying to touch the blurry pinpricks of stars in the ocean.

Lance turned to face him, and his blue eyes were deep and wide. Keith had to look up lightly because Lance was so close, but he met his boyfriend's sincere gaze and wrapped his arms lightly around Lance's neck, then stepped closer, their chests pressed against each other. even in the freezing water, Lance was warm against Keith's skin, and his fingers pressed against Keith's hips. 

"I love you, Keith," Lance said, and leaned his cheek over Keith's head.

"I love you, too," Keith murmured, and listened to Lance's heartbeat, the skin of his chest warm and dark and chocolaty smooth. Lance's hands flowed like the water around them over Keith's sides and back, down his chest, over his stomach, then up to his neck as he tilted it up to kiss Keith's waiting lips. 

They stayed in the ocean for a while longer before stumbling over invisible, underwater sand-dunes to the shore. Keith pulled on his boxers, but didn't bother with his shirt, and carried the rest of his clothes to Lance's car, climbing into the passenger seat and curling into the warmth of the car. Lance climbed in a few seconds later and kissed Keith's forehead. 

"Happy Birthday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so yeaaah I support the Acxa-is-Keiths-mom theory, but I just made up Keith's dad's name because it hasn't been released yet. Again, I apologize for this taking so long to publish, but the next few chapters should be pretty regular in terms of publishing. We're actually getting pretty close to the end! I'm guessing... maybe 4 or 5 more chapters? Maybe more, I'm really not sure yet :0 anyways, thank you for staying with me and supporting this fic! I hope you like it so far!
> 
> Note to the description of Shiro's apartment: I used studio apartments as my guide, because I wanna live in one when I'm older lol, but here's two pictures of what I meant by the positioning of his bed:
> 
> http://cdn.home-designing.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/wood-paneling-apartment.jpg
> 
> http://decoholic.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/19-ideas-for-small-studio-apartments.jpg
> 
> see how the bed is like... in the wall? I think it's so cooooool...
> 
> anyways, i'm not good at writing things like the beach scene (I get really flustered and nervous that I'm not writing it right, so that's why it's kind of vague) so I hope it was okay enough :)
> 
> see you all next week! leave a comment and kudos if youd like :) i love feedback!


	14. 14-Skeek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soooo the crew decides to go to a club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, sorry this took so long! this is part 1 of the collab i'm doing with my friend, so that's why theres a new character, we kind of mixed our universes for this chapter. the next chapter will conclude the collab, but i hope you like it :) btw, ch 15 will be out fairly soon! enjoy~~
> 
> song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7VewKI44rQ&list=PLw-VjHDlEOgvT-sOErqlUvlTVldqB1jpF&index=5
> 
> pic: https://68.media.tumblr.com/133c4a0f5fe493bb912512bdda87bda3/tumblr_ob7rv6K0IB1v6fkxfo3_500.jpg

Keith lay awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

 _"I love you, Keith."_ Lance's voice echoed around the walls of Keith's mind, and he could still feel Lance's warm hands on his chest, even several hours later. Lance had dropped Keith off at his apartment, and Keith had watched the truck's taillights until they disappeared. 

"I love you," Keith whispered. Had it been too soon? It had, Keith knew, but it wasn't like he  _couldn't_ say it back. What else was love, aside from the tight feeling in Keith's chest every time Lance's sunny smile came into view? He loved that smile. But did that mean he loved the boy it belonged to? It was too soon, but he didn't know how to slow everything down. Maybe that was the point of love; you couldn't slow down to catch your breath as this beautiful person spun into your heart and stole your thoughts. Keith rolled onto his side. He'd never loved someone romantically, he didn't know if this was what he was supposed to feel. 

Confused, Keith stared blankly ahead of him until he fell asleep. 

...

Keith woke up early the next morning and texted Shiro to see if he was at the gym. He was. Of course, he was. Wanting to get his mind off things, Keith changed into a t-shirt and shorts and made his way to the gym. 

Shiro was running slowly on the treadmill. He was training for a half-marathon. Keith didn't know how he did it, running for fun seemed absurd. 

"So Keith," Shiro started, chest heaving. Keith assumed he was nearing the end of his run, "I'm glad you came. Since your birthday was in the middle of the week, why don't we do something this weekend where you can stay up late?"

"Such as?" Keith asked, his feet pounding the belt of the treadmill.

"A club." Shiro looked straight ahead, focused.

"A club? I didn't know we had any." 

Shiro began to slow the pace of his treadmill, point by point, "We don't. It's a few towns away. But you're up for it?"

"Would everyone come?" 

"If you wanted them to." Keith sat on this for a few minutes as Shiro slowed to a walk, face red from exertion. His shirt was off, and Keith couldn't help but admire his best friend's toned chest. What the fuck, dude? No wonder he could practically get anyone he wanted. Try as he might, Keith had decided a while ago that weight-lifting was not for him. He didn't have the patience or strength anyways. He stuck to push-ups and running, thanks.

"Okay, let's do it."

...

"You have a hole in your apron," were the first words Lance told Keith after kissing him when he arrived at the flowershop to say hi. 

"I do?" Keith looked down at his apron and sighed, sticking his thumb through the hole ripped through the seam, "Crap. I'll ask Allura to sew it..." 

"No need. You gotta sewing kit?" Lance hopped onto the counter and dangled his legs over the other side. 

Keith stared blankly at him. "No." Who did? 

"Take it off. I'll go home and sew it and bring it back to you tomorrow."

"You sew?" Lance surprised him every day, jeez.

"I do, actually. Not my best party trick, but it's useful." He grinned, "My first year of college, you know what they called me? They called me the tailor because of how I  _thread the needle_." He winked at Keith. 

Keith looked at him, unamused, "That's a sex nickname, right?" 

"Yeah, sadly. It'd be pretty cool if I was known around campus as like, the sewing god. Especially because we have to make our own costumes for the productions in ballet," Lance laughed nervously. 

"That's adorable," Keith blurted, "Not the sex part, but the part that you make your own costumes."

"It's hard, man! Sewing on sequins takes a lot of time!" 

Keith laughed and pulled Lance towards him, "Yeah babe, I'm sure it's really hard."

"It's not funny Keith, I slaved over that-" Keith interrupted him with his lips, pressing over Lance's mouth to shut him up. Lance closed his eyes immediately, almost like he was waiting for Keith to make the move, and slipped off the counter, tipping Keith's head up and pressing his thumbs into Keith's hips. Keith stayed flat-footed, and somehow it felt better to have Lance lean over him, taller and leaning back against the counter. Keith opened his eyes when they stopped, and Lance's lids still covered his own, and Keith could count each eyelash if he wanted, and every tiny, almost invisible freckle scattered over Lance's cheeks, which were tinted pink. 

Keith blushed too, and reached behind his back to undo the bow in his apron, then handed it to Lance, kissing him on the cheek before pushing him out the door, "It's bad service if I'm making out with my boyfriend when I'm supposed to be watching for customers," he said, smiling shyly, "I'll text you."

Lance waved, then disappeared out the door. 

...

"A limo? Why would we need a limo?" Keith asked incredulously, looking over Hunk's shoulder at his computer screen. Shiro, Allura, Pidge, Lance, Hunk, and Keith were all gathered at Hunk's house. It was Saturday night, and they had decided to go clubbing after all. 

"Why  _wouldn't_  we need a limo? We should arrive in style, Keith," Hunk replied, and picked up his phone, beginning to call the phone number on the screen. 

Keith facepalmed, then headed upstairs to where Pidge and Allura were getting ready. "Guys, you agree with me that this is ridiculous, right?" Keith asked, plopping down on the floor. The room was sort of like a living room, with Hunk's TV and a bookcase full of recipe books and mystic realism novels. Two small sofas were positioned in the room, and Allura and Pidge's bags were thrown on them, Allura's overflowing with clothes, Pidge's with his computer, headphones, and a strange launchpad-like device. Allura was fidgeting with a grey bodycon dress that had whispy lilac rising from the bottom seam. 

Pidge stood next to her in the mirror, and Keith's heart hiccuped sadly as he watched Pidge adjusting his binder around his chest, frowning at the tight-fitting fabric. Pidge was saving money for top surgery, but college made it difficult to save anything, especially with Pidge's constant technology upgrades for the agency he worked at. Allura seemed indifferent of Pidge's binder, not paying it much attention at all, which Keith was sure Pidge appreciated. 

"Yeah, but, to be honest, I'm kind of excited." Pidge turned to Keith, grabbing his shirt which lay on the floor next to his feet. "I've never gone to a club before." He flashed his wallet at Keith, his new ID slid into one of the pockets. 

Keith sighed, and Allura stepped closer to the mirror, drawing lines on her cheeks and nose with a dark brown pencil-thing, then blending it in. Keith remembered it was called contour. Whatever that meant. 

"Apparently," she started, "It's a gay club." Keith's eyebrows skyrocketed. 

"Really?" Shiro must've 'forgotten' to include that part. Keith bit his lip. Okay.

Pidge adjusted the creases in his shirt, then looked at his outfit. White shirt with a green stripe over it, not-really-baggy-but-still-comfy sweatpants, and flexible brown Doc Martens. Allura, next to him, looked stunning as she adjusted her hair around her shoulders, white and curly and beautifully contrasting her dark brown skin. 

"GUYS, THE LIMO WILL BE HERE IN 10 MINUTES!" Hunk called loudly through his house, and Keith sighed.

"So extra," he muttered, and examined his own outfit. He didn't know how to dress to go clubbing, so he chose a tight black v-neck and jeans, simple simple simple, and his high-tops. He had seen Lance's outfit earlier, and he had looked artsy and stunning, so much that Keith almost wanted to tell Lance to change into something less exposing because he was nervous every other being in the crowd would gawk and gape at Lance's toned stomach and chest. Maybe that was just him. The shirt was made of black mesh, the hems with black fabric, and he wore low-waisted Adidas pants that exposed his dipping hipbones. Keith tried to remain composed as he thought back to the grin Lance flaunted towards Keith as they made eye contact because  _of course, he knew he looked fucking hot._

Keith and Pidge grabbed their wallets, Allura her clutch, and they walked downstairs. Lance and Shiro sat at the dining table, and Hunk was eating a slice of the pizza they had ordered earlier. He was wearing his regular clothes, not as flashy as the others; he and Pidge planned to stay to the side, drinking shots and listening to the music. Neither of them were gay, nor did they have another significant other (which was Shiro and Allura's reason for going, because they could just dance with each other), so clubbing was just a smidge bit pointless for them. Keith still hoped they would find someone soon, they didn't deserve to be lonely. 

Allura came to stand behind Shiro and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, placing her head in the crook of Shiro's neck. Keith looked away awkwardly: was he supposed to do that with Lance? Luckily, his boyfriend stood up and stretched, his shirt riding up to his ribcage. Pidge checked something on his phone, then grabbed a piece of pizza too. The limo arrived a few minutes later. 

Keith looked at the limo in wonder, it's sleek black frame... he'd never been in one before. The driver stepped out and opened the door for the group. The interior was like one long, connected sofa, with comfy seats and a series of small cabinets and mini fridges in front on the opposite side of them. They sat comfortably, chatting, the smooth stops and starts of the limo unnoticed.

The drive was pretty long because they had to drive into Canada, but pop music and supplied snacks kept them busy. 

"We're here!" Shiro announced after a certain period of time, and opened the door after pulling a few bills from his wallet and handing them to the driver. He stepped outside, followed by the rest of the group. The limo pulled away as they faced the large dark building, with neon blue lights spelling 'Skeék' on it's front. 

"Skeék?" Keith asked, roughly trying to say the accent the right way. 

"Yeah. One of my clients told me about it."

Keith gulped, then began walking towards the white door. The group entered into a large hallway, to the left, bathrooms, to their right, a large gaping opening that opened to the actual club, and straight ahead, a 'staff only' door. Shiro lead the way into a large, dimly lit area, which was the actual club. Music played over the speakers, bass lightly thrumming through Keith's chest, and yellow lights flared overhead.

The club itself was actually very nice, nicer than Keith had expected. On the right was the stage, three poles standing, spaced evenly. Men danced on them, and Keith felt his ears grow hot, so he looked away. The stage was lined with a golden-accent, carrying along the edge, and everywhere Keith looked he saw flashes of the same gold, on the armrests and legs of the sofa in front of the stage, as well as on the chairs set up around scattered circular tables in the center area. 

The hardwood floors shone, looking polished, matching the tables and the bar that stood to the left, which had the same blinding gold accent around its edge. Barstools stood across its rim, and Shiro made his way over. In the far corner, four circular areas were walled off with heavy gold curtains. 

The group followed Shiro over to the bar, and they ordered shots, all a little awkward and self-conscious. The place wasn't very crowded; a few loud, middle-aged women crammed on the semi-circle sofa in front of the stage, laughing drunk, and then small groups positioned around tables, talking and carrying drinks, rubbing shoulders and getting closer than they normally would've. 

Keith turned to Lance and touched his wrist, reassuring himself that Lance was still his, even though his ocean eyes were turned towards the stage, low-lidded while he downed another shot. Keith checked his phone. It was 9:43. Keith ordered another shot too.

The conversation picked up again, Keith sitting neatly between Lance and Shiro, Hunk and Pidge wandering off with their drinks to another table. The dancers became just a background distraction... until the lights changed. Flaring blue and purple, the music suddenly became louder, and Keith looked up. The three dancers from before had left the stage, and now a single man was on stage. Lance's eyes widened a bit, and Keith felt his throat tighten, partly in awe at the man on stage, partly in jealousy.

The dancer was hot, obviously, with a heavily-muscled chest, ropes of muscle in his back, solid, defined abs, and a dipping v-line. His hair was dark and messy, and he was dusted with glitter. He wore black stilettos that added a good 6 inches to his height. Keith ordered whiskey. He bit the glass lightly as he and Lance watched the dancer move with a mix of odd grace, but the trashy pole-dancer vibe was still there. Keith rubbed his palms on his jeans. He felt sweaty and gross. Lance looked enamored as he clung to his martini. Keith scowled at the dancer, even if he was fucking hot. Keith couldn't wait for the dance to be over. 

But then there were four more dances. Keith turned away from the stage, drinking his beer quietly. At 'intermission time', Lance turned back to the bar, ordering another martini. He popped a cherry in his mouth, then looked over at Keith, who was brooding. They picked up a conversation with the bartender, but Keith was pretty silent for most of the 5 minutes that the conversation lived. Lance noticed this, of course. 

"You okay?" Lance asked over the music.

"I'm fine," Keith said back forcefully. Lance wasn't having it. Frowning, he stood, grabbed Keith's elbow, and hauled him away from the bar, to a corner near a 'staff only' door. 

"You're  _not_  fine, so tell me why." Lance's eyes were set.

"I just get jealous," Keith mumbled, and frowned, "And I get that they're hot and I'm not, not really, and you're too flirty for your own good but I just really like you, like a lot, and I don't want to watch you fall for someone else. I know this is supposed to feel like a birthday present, but the way you look at that guy with the glitter pisses me off."

Lance almost laughed, but not in a mean way, "Keith Kogane, mi amor, you're  _such_ an idiot sometimes." He didn't elaborate, and it made Keith's stomach churn. 

"Is it  _that_  idiotic to be jealous?" He asked, frowning.

"Well, Keith, as much as I love you, I'm allowed to be attracted to other guys too. I can't just ignore someone if they're thrown in front of me." Lance crossed his arms over his chest.

"I get that, but it's not like they're forcing you to look at them like  _that_."

Lance tossed his head, clearing his brown hair from his eyes. "Like what?"

Keith didn't have time to answer, because suddenly the man from the first dance, with the glittery chest and incredibly toned body, approached them from the lounge area, and his dark eyes landed slyly on Lance. Keith watched as the gorgeous man sauntered up next to Lance, grabbed his arm, and breathed across his neck.

"Hey, cutie." His voice was low and sultry, and Lance lifted an eyebrow, looking the man up and down.

"Hey, yourself," he replied. Keith fumed. Lance's voice had dropped an octave, and the two seemed to completely ignore Keith as he stood awkwardly to the side. 

"I saw you by the bar when I was dancing," the man said, and Keith watched as his thumb pressed into Lance's bicep. Why the fuck wasn't he saying anything to this guy, who was obviously flirting with Lance, ahem,  _his boyfriend_. 

"Did you?" The stranger nodded.

Keith cleared his throat. "Hey, man, I'm Keith," he said loudly and held out his hand to the dancer. 

The bedazzled man took his eyes off Lance and focused on Keith, looking at him like it was his first time seeing him. His eyes flickered down to Keith's extended hand, and he reached out, took Keith's hand, and leaned down, kissing Keith's hand.

"Spencer," he replied, and winked. Keith froze. What the actual fuck. Lance giggled, and Spencer turned back to him, grinning, "He's pretty uptight," Spencer stage-whispered to Lance. 

Lance flashed a smile back, his teeth bright against his skin. 

"I dance too," Lance shared, and Spencer looked at him, surprised, "Not pole dancing, but contemporary and hip-hop," he clarified. 

"Ooh, try doing it in heels," Spencer laughed, and Keith looked again at the death traps strapped to his feet. Even if he tried to deny it, he was pretty impressed by the fact that Spencer could even  _walk_  in those. Keith knew he couldn't. He'd probably break his ankles just putting them on. 

"I have," Lance said, then scratched the back of his neck, "It was a disaster." Spencer laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. Keith squinted his eyes slightly.  _Stop trying so hard, weirdo._

"Do you dance too, Keith?" Spencer asked, blinking his large lashes innocently. 

"I don't," Keith monotoned, skeptical. Who was this guy?

"Aww, don't be ashamed that you're clumsy," Lance joked, and Spencer nodded. He even looked sincere. Lance and Spencer plunged into their own conversation, Spencer's sweaty arm around Lance's shoulders, his other hand on Lance's chest when he laughed after one of Lance's jokes. 

Somehow, they stumbled onto the fact that Lance was Cuban, and Spencer asked Lance to tell him something in Spanish, which was something that Keith had wanted to ask Lance to do but was too embarrassed, and Lance leaned forward and said clearly to Spencer, "Tu es muy guapo."

"Gracias," Spencer laughed, his voice digging deep into Keith's mind, fueling his jealousy. Spencer glanced at his phone, and his eyes lit up, "You wanna dance, Keith? I'm on in a minute, you should try your feet with dancing."

Keith almost laughed, "I'm alright. You'd lose business."

"Lance then, you wanna come on?" 

Lance didn't hesitate, "Duh, of course." He turned to Keith, winked lazily, then followed Spencer through the 'Staff Only' door. Keith looked down at his hands. They were shaking and sweaty. Frowning, he sat back down at the bar, and ordered another shot. 

He was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol. 


	15. 15-Mom, it's early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rest of the club and some shocking news about keith...'s mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pic: http://data.whicdn.com/images/249829092/large.png
> 
> song: (it's fitting for like the first three sections of the chapter and then it's a bit weird for the sadder parts...)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJO9UECA2wc

Keith watched as Lance hopped upstage behind Spencer, after the short, muscular man said something to a person by the wall, holding an iPod hooked up to the sound system. Lance stood confidently, and a couple people hooted at him, to which he winked back. Spencer grabbed Lance's waist as an exotic beat sounded, and then the bass kicked in. 

Spanish music flowed over the club, and Lance perked up, eyes lighting up as he recognized the song. Keith didn't know it. Lance switched his hips, fast and smooth, and Spencer whistled, looking out at the crowd. It had grown a bit since the group had arrived, and now more people were drunk, now watching Spencer grinding against Lance's hip as Lance shouted the lyrics, his tongue flipping out to lick his lips. 

Keith watched from the bar, soaked in jealousy. He felt an anger towards Spencer, for his stupid hot body and confident, sexy smile. Lance liked that confidence. Keith was far from it. 

Wait, hang on, Lance knew how to  _twerk_? Keith paused. Yeah, he could see how that was hot... 

The rest of the song was agonizingly painful in both how Spencer was dancing against Lance, but also how Lance was dancing in general... Needless to say, as soon as Lance hopped off the stage, Keith was kissing him fiercely, and Lance only laughed, winding his arms around Keith's shoulders, getting glitter, which Spencer had poured over Lance's sweaty body, all over Keith's clothes. 

They kissed until Shiro broke them apart, protesting that they were making a scene. 

...

Keith stumbled next to Lance as Shiro called them a cab. "Wow, man," Keith slurred, "You can really hold yer liquor."

Shiro only looked at Keith appraisingly, dark eyebrows stitched together, as he spoke into his phone. The cab was there in minutes. Shiro told the driver Keith's address, then shoved the two boys inside. "I'll call you tomorrow, Keith," Shiro said, and Keith nodded drunkenly, falling into Lance's shoulder. 

As the cab sped away from the club, Keith looked up at Lance, who actually looked pretty sober. That changed when he started giggling when Keith reached to hold his hand. "You were sooo cool tonight," Keith said, admiring Lance's beautiful, strong jawline and high cheekbones.

"Thank you, sir," Lance said, and his eyes were bright, "You were a jealous mess, but I love you anyways, Mr. Mullet."

"You called me Buster Brown," Keith hiccuped, and Lance laughed, poking Keith's nose. 

"Yes, I did."

...

"HOW MANY STAIRS ARE THERE?" Lance groaned, trudging up the stairs to Keith's apartment.

"A lot," Keith replied, breathing heavily, "Only two more flights."

The two had sobered up a bit in the car, but now they were just plain exhausted, and the sounds of their breathing echoed through the cement-walled stairway. Keith held his hand to his side, where a cramp was forming. He looked at his watch. 12:37. That was relatively okay, he guessed. 

The drive home had been spent with the two curled next to each other, dozing softly, until the driver was demanding cash. Keith had almost been too drunk and too tired to count the bills, but he managed to give the driver the correct amount before leading Lance inside.It was a new, weird feeling for Keith to sleep in the car, and his stomach felt weird and his throat was sticky afterward, but Lance made the experience better, even though he drooled on Keith's shirt. 

As the pair arrived on the correct hallway, Keith fumbled for his keys in his back pocket and struggled to unlock and open his door, partially to the fact that Lance was leaning heavily against him, almost pinning him to the door as he tried to fit the metal into the slot of the lock. 

"Okay, Lance, let's get inside," Keith mumbled, and lead Lance to the bedroom. Now that they were dating, did they sleep in the same bed? Keith didn't want Lance sleeping on the couch again, and he knew it was pointless anyways, because Lance, whether consciously or not, would crawl into Keith's bed just the same. 

"You remember where the bathroom is... Keith tried to give Lance a brief tour again, "Make yourself comfortable, I'm just gonna wash my face and stuff." Keith slipped into the bathroom and sighed, leaning against the door. The bathroom lights were too bright and fluorescent, so he shut them off, leaving his tired eyes to see by the glow of the nightlight. 

Splashing cool water on his face, Keith tried to sober up a bit more, trying to reduce the inevitable hangover for the next morning via Placebo Effect:  _I will not have a massive headache tomorrow, I will not have a massive headache tomorrow... A massive headache? Nope, not me. I'll be... fit as a fiddle_. Except, 'fit as a fiddle' is only a term Insanely Drunk Keith would use, as well as Certain Hangover Keith. Exhaling deeply, Keith combed his knotted hair, and rubbed chapstick over his cracked lips, sore from kissing Lance at the club and the wind from his motorcycle that he had ridden all week. 

Keith pulled off his shirt and threw another one on from his laundry basket in the bathroom, behind the door, and stripped off his jeans, looking blankly at his plain grey boxers. Whatever, they're sensible. Definitely not like Spencer's choice in clothing, but the tank top was tight-fitting, so he guessed it was alright enough. 

Keith opened the door to the bathroom and crept out, walking slowly into the bedroom, careful not to make noise in case- Yep. Lance was already asleep. Sprawled shirtless across Keith's bed, his tan skin was smooth and unblemished. He lay on his stomach, his arms folded over the pillow above his head. Keith stood in the doorway for a minute, looking at Lance's sleeping figure. He really was beautiful.

Stepping quietly into the room, Keith crossed to the side of the bed that had the most space, the right. He slipped under the sheets, and the bed was already warm from Lance's body heat, like a comforting heater. Keith pulled himself closer to his boyfriend, curling his back into Lance's side, and he felt Lance's torso rising and falling against his spine, and the exhale across his neck. Keith glanced at his clock, thought about setting an alarm for the morning, then decided against it. He'd be fine, he wasn't a late sleeper anyways.

...

2:53 A.M. 

Keith woke to Lance laying heavily over his chest, his bare skin sticky and hot, cheek pressed against Keith's chest, right over his heart. Their fingers were intertwined under the sheets, and Lance's leg twisted around Keith's own, his hip pressed right against Keith's. 

It was a little hard to breathe under Lance's weight, but Keith thought it was actually really sweet. He ran his hand lightly through Lance's hair, then kissed the top of his head before falling back against his pillow, comfortably warm.

...

An incessant tone pulled Keith from sleep. Patting the bedside table, he felt for his phone, then squinted as the bright light reached his eyes. 'Mom' was calling. Keith sat up in bed, yawning, and answered the call.

"Mom, it's early," he complained slightly, but he was happy that she had called anyways. Keith's mom was kind and wonderful and strong, and she was always there to cheer her son up.

"Hi, Keith." There was something in her voice that made Keith suddenly nervous.

"You okay?" He asked. A pounding headache was already coming on, and he winced.

There was muffled talking on the other line, then his mom again, "So, Keith, honey, I'm in the hospital."

Keith nearly dropped his phone. "What?"

"Don't panic, please, it's just testing, but I've got a room and I'm going through some testing this week. Don't worry yourself, I'm sure it's nothing, I just wanted to let you know."

Keith sat up, crossing his legs underneath him on the mattress. "What do they think it is, Mom? Are you gonna be okay?"

"Sweetie, I think it's best if your dad explains..." Keith felt his heart pounding as he heard his mom call for his father, "Can you talk to him? Please?" More muffled noises.

"Hey, son." Keith clamped a hand over his mouth. His father sounded dull and broken and tired. His usual bright, warm southern accent sounded crushed.

"Dad, is Mom okay?" 

"They think it's cancer."

Keith stood up abruptly, and everything kind of went a bit sideways and upsidedown and inside out.  _Mom?_

"What... what kind?" Keith raked a hand through his hair, "What's gonna happen? I'll book a ticket as soon as I can... Where are you guys?"

His father explained the best he could, but it was clear that he was just as confused. 

Pancreatic cancer. One of the most deadly cancers by statistics. Keith cried into his elbows, outside on the sidewalk, for an hour, his fingers shaking. He texted Shiro, but his best friend didn't answer. Standing up, Keith realized how cold it was. November was approaching fast, and the cool wind bit at his nose. He walked once, twice around the entire apartment complex. He was barefoot, and a headache throbbed through his brain. His tongue felt swollen and dry. 

Keith wanted to go up to Lance because he knew that his boyfriend would be warm and safe and he would comfort Keith as best as could, but Keith just really needed his best friend right now. 

Shiro answered his phone at 4:30.

**Shiro: Hey, I'm on my way**

Keith waited in front of his building until Shiro's sleek, black Mazda rolled into the parking lot, then into an empty slot beside Keith's motorcycle. Keith looked with puffy eyes as Shiro turned off the ignition, then stepped out of the car. Shiro was wearing his gym clothes, but he hadn't gone to work yet; he had half an hour before his first client. 

Shiro walked up to Keith and held him gently by his shoulders, looking him deep in the eyes. "What's wrong?" His breath smelled strongly of coffee, and Keith realized how tired he really was. 

"Mom's got cancer," he choked, and it was awful saying it out loud. Shiro's hug came fast and strong, holding Keith securely to his chest. Keith could hear Shiro's heart through his shirt, and he dry-sobbed into Shiro's shoulder, having run out of tears. 

Shiro understood. Because Shiro was older than Keith, he and Keith's parents had gotten along well, and Keith's mom had been Shiro's boxing instructor for 4 years. Not only was Shiro like Keith's older brother, he was basically part of the family. He came over to Keith's house every Christmas since freshman year of high school, but six years spanned to what seemed like six lifetimes. 

"Keith... When are you going down?"

"I'll book a flight as soon as I can," Keith sniffed, and he pulled back, wiping his nose on his arm, which was spiked with goosebumps. 

"How long have you been out here?" Shiro asked, concerned. Keith shook his head. He didn't know. 

"Let's go inside. I'll help you book a flight."

"Lance slept over," Keith reminded him wearily, and Shiro began helping him up the stairs to his apartment, his knees so shaky that it was hard to walk. 

"Okay." 

Keith and Shiro booked a flight for Keith two weeks from the coming Tuesday, and Shiro called Allura to let her know that Keith would need some time off then, and Keith heard Allura's sympathetic tone over the phone. He refused to talk to her. He didn't want pity. He knew his mom didn't want pity. She was the toughest, kindest person he knew... She'd win this fight. 

Keith called his mom again, and she and Shiro talked for a long time, just catching up. Keith worked on how he would tell Lance. They'd barely been dating for a month, and now... Now, Keith was vulnerable and would have to leave for Texas in two weeks. 

Lance didn't even know Keith's mom. They'd never talked, Keith had never even mentioned he was actually gay in front of his mom, let alone the fact that he was dating someone. Keith pulled at his hair, and checked his watch. It was almost 6. He was surprised that Lance wasn't up yet, he assumed he would be training with Allura early, only because Allura was an early bird like Shiro and Keith, and didn't like to do important things in the middle of the day. 

Shiro and Keith decided to go on a run to get their mind off things, and to exhaust Keith further so that he could fall asleep again. They went across town, up and down hills, cross streets. Keith heaved for breath, his lungs and legs ached, and his headache was worse than ever, and he welcomed all the pain willingly, basking in the feeling of life as at cut at him. They were back at the apartment too soon, and Keith's exhaustion was catching up to him, as planned. As Shiro was leaving to go to work, he tried to convince Keith to stop worrying so much. 

"Keith, listen to me." Keith was breathing hard. It wasn't like he could reply too well anyways. Shiro gripped Keith's arm tightly, fingers pressing into his bicep.

"Your mom doesn't want you to be worried right now. There's nothing you can do right now to help your mom cope, except get enough sleep, stay healthy, and don't worry too much. You worry, she worries, got it?" Keith nodded. He knew. Didn't mean he'd do any of those things. He'd try for Shiro and his mom though. 

"Call me later," Shiro said, then pulled out of the parking lot. Keith stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes, then shivered. It was a freezing morning. He hated himself for being so stupid. He wouldn't be much use to his mother if he was frozen to the core. 

At 8:23, after looking over countless sites that held information on pancreatic cancer, Keith decided to go back to bed for an hour or so more of sleep. As he entered the dark room, Lance's light snores could be heard from the bed. His tan skin rose and fell evenly, and Keith sunk into the mattress, lifting Lance's arm over his waist, curling back into the dark warmth of his bed, tucking his head under Lance's chin. Lance shifted in his sleep, and sealed against the thin, shorter boy beside him, his knees pressing into the hollows of Keith's. 

Retreating back into the safety, Keith let a few more tears slip from his eyes, then curled into a ball under the blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls don't kill me~ next chapter out soon, i promise!


	16. 16-Orchids Mean More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and lance sort things out, keith goes to work, rainstorm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, it's a bit of a short one :) new chapters should be out this weekend. I think this is one of the last chapters! maybe 3 more? I have all my ideas, i just need to write them all down now :)  
> song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-i6QfXbbV4s  
> pic: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/91/f2/2d/91f22d1b9ceb9d94c4c9df25e0b69aa5.png

Keith stumbled wearily into the living room and saw Lance cooking eggs on the stove. Keith walked up next to him, and leaned his head on the taller boy's shoulder, closing his eyes. Lance was wearing Keith's clothes; black sweatpants and a grey, knitted sweater with red reindeers jumping across his chest. 

"Good morning." Lance sounded careful and hesitant. "Shiro called me earlier." 

Keith limply hugged Lance back as his long, gangly arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the heat from Lance's body and the stove dulled his mind a bit. Lance pulled back, kissed Keith's forehead, then sent Keith to the table with a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee, the first for Lance, the latter for Keith. 

Keith was still only wearing his tank top and boxers, so he shuffled into his room again while Lance plated the eggs, and searched through his closet, eventually finding his Stranger Things sweater. He gripped the fabric loosely as he remembered watching the season finale with his mom. Keith slipped the soft sweater over himself, and it felt like Acxa was right there, hugging him. Keith took a deep breath, then returned to the table, tucking himself into his seat as Lance brought over two plates of steaming, fluffy yellow eggs. 

"Can I have some ketchup?" Keith asked, slightly embarrassed. Lance looked puzzled, but found it in the fridge and gave it to Keith, who made crisscrosses over his eggs with the condiment. Lance dug into his eggs, and Keith looked up at the clock on the microwave. It read 12:28. He'd slept  _that long_?

"So..." Lance started, then frowned, as if at himself. 

"What?" Keith asked, turning his fork between his fingers. 

"Why... why'd you call Shiro? Why didn't you wake me up?" 

Keith swallowed his eggs, then tipped his head. "Shiro's my best friend."

"I know that... but you could've woken me up too. I don't want to be your second choice when you're upset."

"You're not," Keith said evenly, "I've just known Shiro for longer and he knows my mom."

Lance sipped his orange juice. His eyes said that he was hurt, but he didn't fight against Keith; the small, fragile adolescent was already hurting, he didn't need Lance to be mad at him. "Well then, I want to meet your mom. I'll buy a ticket now with you to Texas. I don't want to be alone here, and I don't want you to be alone halfway across the country."  

"I won't be alone..." Keith protested, but Lance's eyes were set.

"Don't you understand me, Keith?" He asked gently, " _I want to be with you_. So don't leave me here. Please."

Keith turned away, out of Lance's searching, ocean-like blue eyes, that shone with love and kindness and that same, soft pity that Shiro couldn't help but have in his own eyes. "Okay." 

The couple ate the rest of their brunch in quiet solitude, Keith never meeting Lance's eyes. 

_I can't be happy right now. I can't let Lance make me happy... Who am I to be happy when my mom is in the hospital, diagnosed with cancer. I can't be happy. I don't deserve that when she's in pain. No, Lance, don't make me smile. I don't deserve to be happy right now._

Keith cursed under his breath, his evasive brain pushing messages onto him, telling him he wasn't good enough. Keith wasn't so sure of himself anymore. 

...

The rest of the day was spent calmly, Keith doing housework, restringing an old base, and working on college debt math. Lance flitted around Keith occasionally, kissing his ears and his shoulders as he passed by. 

Keith's mourning fell into a slow, constant pulsing deep in his heart, and his locked it back with distractions, fingers still twitching to his phone- to his mom. Sighing, he looked over at Lance. 

His boyfriend was working hard on his laptop on the couch, sunlight falling through the window and dancing across Lance's face. Lance's dark blue eyes shone bright as the rays hit them, and dust nodes floated through the air. 

Keith stood from the table and crossed to Lance, curling up to his side. Lance glanced down at Keith and kissed his forehead, lifting a hand from his computer keys to rest on Keith's knee. Keith looked at Lance's computer screen. An essay. 

"You spelled 'conscious' wrong," he pointed out, and Lance laughed a bit, fixing the error and leaning into Keith. 

"Don't drift too far," Lance said quietly, looking at Keith earnestly. 

"What do you mean?"

"Stay close to me. Don't be by yourself." Lance struggled to put his feelings into words. Keith understood; he nodded. Stay by Lance. He wants you with him. You deserve to be wanted. You deserve to be happy. 

...

Keith went to work on Monday, despite Allura's insistent worries- and found that it was actually really relaxing/ Keith found himself walking around the arboretum, going over the names of the flora in his head, fingertips trailing over leaves and petals. He stopped by the Elephant Ear plant, with its huge leaves that were soft to the touch, and then the basil, where he rubbed a leave between his fingers until the scent filled the store, mingling with the flowery smell of the bouquets on the far wall. 

Keith spent an hour arranging tiny, faux-ivory elephant figurines under a small bonsai tree, whacking his head on the wall in surprise when a customer suddenly burst into the flowershop. Rubbing his head gingerly, Keith looked up at the customer, a frantic-looking young man, wearing a loose, thin sweater and jeans. His jawline was decently sharp, but his overall look of worry kind of ruined his attractiveness. 

Keith smiled politely, "Can I get you something?" 

The man nodded, slightly out of breath. "It's my anniversary, man. I need flowers." Keith tried not to laugh. 

"How many... months? Years?" 

"4 years," the man said, running a hand through his hair, which was stiff with gel, "I bought her a new camera but I think I need flowers too." His eyes, which looked like melted chocolate, flicked to the display of bouquets wrapped in plastic and tissue paper, but Keith shook his head and pointed to the potted plants. 

"Get her an orchid. It'll last longer, mean more." 

The man shifted on his feet, then looked at Keith, "Aren't roses classic?"

Keith shook his head, "Roses are cheap, cliche, and overrated," he said bluntly, then handed the man the potted orchid, "Don't worry. She'll like something simple and pretty." 

$18 later, the man walked carefully out of the store, cradling a tranquil, purple orchid to his chest. Keith slumped into his chair and sighed, flicking dirt and fertilizer off the counter. Lance was going to his own apartment that night, so Keith would be alone until Thursday, when Lance was coming over again. Keith wanted to text Shiro, but he knew that his best friend was with Allura, probably writing love poems or something. 

It was getting dark out, so Keith closed shop early. As he stepped outside, zipping his puffy coat up to his chin, he looked up and saw that the sky was the color of bruises with clouds that were bloated with rain ready to fall. 

Keith started his motorcycle, looking warily to the sky, then sped home. 

...

Keith stood in the doorway of his bedroom, looking over the perfectly-made bed and clean floor. Lance's traces, his dirty dishes in the sink, his computer cord in the outlet, his toothbrush, they were all gone. 

And Keith felt more alone than ever.

Outside, the rain was starting, and thunder rumbled through the apartment. Keith turned away from his bathroom and walked to the tiny balcony in his apartment, opening the sliding glass door with a heave and stepping outside. It was already raining. 

Keith threw off his shirt as raindrops fell around him, and the freezing water drip-dropped on his shoulders, sliding down his back. The rain grew heavier and Keith clung to the railing, fingers gripping it like a vise as he closed his eyes and lifted his face to the dark sky, his lips parted as he tasted the wind over his teeth and tongue. The wind and the sounds of the storm drowned out Keith's rational thinking and he stood in the rain, his chest pressed out to the open air. 

...

Keith opened his eyes. He was drenched, and he couldn't feel his feet or most of his hands. His skin felt numb, but his vision was blurry so he couldn't make out much. His knees buckled as he tried to walk, but he caught himself on the door and heaved his body into his apartment, it's warmth penetrating his skin. Keith blinked rapidly and felt for the closet where he kept his towels. Fuzzy fabric met his fingers and he shoved a few towels under his arm, clenching his elbow to his torso to hold them. 

Stripping off his soaked jeans and underwear, he stumbled to the bathroom, throwing his dripping clothes into the tub before feeling his way along the wall to his bedroom. Keith shakily wrapped towels around himself, his shoulders and head and waist, and burrowed into the blankets, falling asleep almost immediately. 

...

_"Momma!" Keith waddled towards his mom, fat toddler hands reaching for her slender fingers._

_"Hi, baby!" His mother laughed, a loud, musical sound, and picked him up, settling him on her hip as she worked around the kitchen. Acxa wasn't a baker, but she could cook decently, and several spices and a cookbook were splayed across the counter. Keith reached for his sippy cup on the granite, blubbing, "Pleeease!"._

_;_

_Acxa rocked him slowly in her arms as he burbled and hiccuped, then finally fell asleep. She placed him in his crib, turned on his rotating mobile of planets, and turned off his light._

_;_

_"Mom, it's not fair!" Sobbing, 10-year-old Keith threw himself into Acxa's arms, his black hair wild and disheveled._

_"What happened?" Acxa asked calmly, rubbing his back._

_"They're so mean!"_

_"The boys from school?" Acxa sighed. She hated talking with those moms. Her son, her only child, wanted to play soccer. Was it so much to ask for just to let him play a sport without getting teased?_

_;_

_"Mom, come on! Just take the picture already!" Exasperated 16-year-old Keith was free of his usual eyeliner and sweatshirts, and now wore dress slacks and a white button-up with a charcoal tie._

_Shiro stood next to him, his arm slung over Keith's shoulders as they froze for Acxa to take a picture with her camera, happiness spread across her face._

_"Don't get into trouble, you two!" Acxa called as they disappeared into Shiro's Subaru._

_;_

_"Mom, c'mon, don't cry. Seriously, Mom, oh my god..."_

_"I can't help it!" Acxa cried, throwing her arms around Keith, who wore his long graduation gown and cap, "You're all grown up now!"_

_;_

_You're all grown up now, Keith._

_..._

Keith woke with a start. 


	17. 17-Dry Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keithy angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi :)  
> song: dirty paws by of monsters and men

Keith woke with a start, his heart pounding. The space behind his eyes throbbed as he looked to his window, the sun shining dully back at him from behind cloud cover. Keith turned to his alarm clock. 7:16. His first lecture started at 7:30... he could make it... That option was immediately shut down as Keith tried to stand. His knees felt like Jello and he nearly fell over. His throat tickled so he coughed, but the pain from the action made his head spin; his throat was raw, rough, and dry like he had been coughing all night. He probably had.

Keith breathed shallowly through his mouth because his nose was too stuffy to breathe through. He walked silently into the bathroom and rummaged through his drawers for a thermometer. Finding the simple white stick, cluttered among old toothbrushes and bracelets and eye makeup, Keith shoved it under his sand-papery dry tongue and shuffled into the kitchen, finding (and immediately swallowing) two Advil caplets. He was still naked, he realized, his hipbones forming small shallows in his skin.

The thermometer beeped after a few seconds and Keith looked down at it, frowning. '99.6'. That counted as sick, right? Keith sighed, which lead to a violent coughing attack, and moved around the kitchen, flipping on the electric kettle and opening the fridge to look for something to eat. He closed it when he saw how bare it was.  _Go shopping_ , he mentally noted and pulled a mug from the cabinet.

The hot tea cleared his sinuses and sore throat, but Keith still felt clammy and gross with sweat, so he padded to the bathroom. A mirror was stationed above the pedestal sink and Keith looked at himself doubtfully. His hair was poofy and messy, what always happened when he went to bed with wet hair. The pads beneath his eyes were creased into dark semi-circles and his irises looked dull. Keith thought he looked a little paler than usual too, but he felt hot and clammy.

Keith licked his lips, trying to taste any trace of Lance, any comfort, but came up with nothing. Lance's sunny smile was hard to bring to mind in such a state of sickness and sadness. Keith rested his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror and gripped the sides of the sink until his knuckles turned white. He needed someone right now. Anyone.

Keith turned away from the sink and yanked the shower control into a hot stream of water, checking for his bathrobe that hung on a hook behind the door. Stepping under the hot stream, he closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. Keith scrubbed at his skin with a dense sponge, then shampooed his hair twice. Facial scrub spattered on the bottom of the tub as he messily poured some into his hand, rubbing his palms against his face, washing away the grimy feeling.

When he was done, Keith stepped out of the shower, wrapped in steam and his robe, and he felt much better. He walked to his bedroom, then his small closet, and picked out the softest, comfiest sweater (light pink with a rose on the upper left, where a breast pocket would be) and black joggers. He blow-dried his hair, tied on his converse, and picked up his keys, en route to Hunk's cafe.

...

Inside Hunk's warm arms, everything smelled like espresso and chocolate and good things. Hunk's hugs were heaven. He didn't even have to say anything, he knew Shiro had told Hunk about Acxa by the way he had come around the counter without saying a word as soon as Keith walked into the shop, brushing the flour from the pie dough he was making off his big hands. Keith sunk into Hunk's sweatshirt and his worries sunk down into his converse. Hink gave him a mug of coffee and sat with Keith at a table, just talking.

"Does Pidge know?" Keith asked, drawing absentminded circles on the dark, wooden table with his fingertips.

"I haven't told him," Hunk said, "But Shiro might have."

Keith nodded, "I just wanted to know. Pidge hasn't texted me but it might just be because he's bad with emotions," he mused.

Hunk rubbed Keith's shoulder across the table, "You okay? You don't sound too good."

Keith smiled a bit, "I stood in the rain for a solid two hours," Keith stage-whispered, and Hunk's eyes widened, exasperated and shocked.

"I'm... not even gonna ask. If you die of hypothermia, it's your fault." The two grinned at each other, and Keith sipped his coffee.

"But back to Pidge, he's gonna find out sooner or later. I know he's not good at comforting people, but you should tell him before he finds out himself and gets upset," Hunk said gently, and Keith nodded, squeezing his mug lightly.

"Anyways, are you going down to Texas soon?"

Keith nodded. "I have plan tickets in a week or two."

"When was the last time you went over?" Keith counted the months on his fingers.

"Six months? I flew over for Mothers' Day." Hunk winced, and the guilt settled heavily on Keith's chest.

"I know, I know, I should've gone sooner," Keith sighed, "I call every week but plane tickets are expensive."

"Try driving," Hunk suggested. Keith rolled his eyes.

"That's like... 30 hours."

He wondered how many hours he could last on his motorcycle. His longest road trip was to mid-California, 5 hours in terrible traffic and blazing hot sun on his neck. It was getting cold now, too, so it may be hard to ride his bike for too long.

Keith shook himself from thought and looked up at Hunk. "Is Lance going?" The brunette was asking. Keith blinked.

"I actually don't know. I don't know if he can take off from school or work or dance practice. I think he has a dance recital soon." Hunk frowned.

"Don't you want him to meet your mom?"

Keith bit his lip, "Well, that's the thing. Mom doesn't even know about Lance yet. I don't think she even knows I'm gay."

Hunk was already shaking his head, "Moms have a gaydar. She knows." Keith laughed.

Hunk and Acxa hadn't been too close, but they got along whenever they were together, and Hunk was a constant visitor at Acxa's country home. Keith's dad had gotten along with most of Keith's friends too, except Pidge, who seemed to intimidate the 50-year-old man with her steel-toes platform boots.

Keith stood, "I should probably go do some school work- I'm behind." Hunk nodded and gathered their mugs, looking around his cafe.

"Well, I'll be here if you need me. Call whenever."

Keith smiled appreciatively, "Thanks, man."

Hunk resumed his place behind the counter and Keith walked outside, exhaling and watching his breath appear and then drift away. He pulled his scarf out of the back hatch of his motorcycle and wound it around his neck, then securing his helmet over his head. The black pavement surged beneath his feet as he drove through the city.

...

Keith spent the rest of the week focusing on school. He talked with his professors, who were all understanding, and finished projects and essays that would be due the following week. Lance came over on Thursday, as promised, and heated up lasagna from his mom, who sent her love, in the barely-used oven in Keith's apartment.

Lance was calm and gentle and sweet and  _infuriatingly chaste_. After days of not seeing him, Keith wanted more than just a kiss on the forehead. He fumed silently as Lance hummed while cleaning the dished, his lips all nice and pretty. Keith ignored it and turned on 'The Walking Dead', settling into the couch. He knew Lance didn't like the show, but he needed some form of decent attention. Keith thought about this as he sat patiently on the couch.

Rick was shooting grotesque zombie heads into explosions of CGI and makeup effects when Lance came and sat down next to Keith, but he didn't say anything. Peeved, Keith frowned, "You don't like this show," he said.

Lance looked up at him, "But you do," he replied and pulled a blanket around himself.

"Lance... stop. Just stop, please. I'm still me. Stop treating me like a toddler. What's with you today?" A zombie groaned loudly from the TV screen and Keith quickly paused the screen.

Lance situated to face Keith and lifted his hands to cup his boyfriend's face, palms still damp from the dishes. "Keith, we haven't been dating for a long time yet. I still don't really know how to act around you when you're upset. I don't know yet.  _You_ have to tell me what you want, because, otherwise I won't know." Lance glanced at the TV screen, Rick's action face stuck in mid-blink. "Tell me what you want."

Keith's throat was dry, "I want you to kiss me," he breathed.

Lance leaned forward and Keith lowered his lashes, feeling Lance's hands slide down to his shoulders. Lance's lips were soft and thin, and Keith found his equilibrium with Lance's weight on top of him as he laid down on the couch, Lance covering him like a blanket, warm and secure. Their legs twisted together and Lance cradled Keith's upper back in his big hands, the cotton-against-cotton of their shirts, Keith's beanie slipping off his head as he pressed himself up against Lance, heavy-breathed and blushing. When Lance pulled back to catch his breath, Keith's lips felt numb.

Keith caught himself from saying 'Thanks'. Really, how lame could he get? Lance was looking at the coffee table, and Keith noticed that his phone was ringing. The caller ID said 'Shiro', so Keith picked up, Lance still laying above him.

"Hey, Shiro," he said nonchalantly, "Kind of in the middle of something here." He and Lance made eye contact. He heard Shiro's low chuckle from the other end of the line.

"I'll make it short then. I was talking with the boys and we agreed that, if you didn't want to, we wouldn't perform in Battle of the Bands."

Keith's eyebrows plummeted. "What? Why?" Lance was listening too.

"Well, with Acxa, we didn't want to burden you with the practices."

"Mom's gonna be fine," Keith said in a shaky voice, reassuring both of them, "I'll be home in about a week. We can have a practice this weekend and then when I get back."

"Alright... Are you sure?" Shiro sounded hesitant.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Keith said calmly. In truth, he wasn't really fine, but he didn't tell Shiro that. His best friend would only worry more.

"See you Saturday."

"Bye." Keith ended the call and Lance settled on top of him, head over Keith's heart.

"Acxa," Lance said quietly, and Keith nodded.

"My mom. Mom. Acxa."

"I want to meet your mom," Lance whispered, and Keith nodded slightly. He was still unsure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) sorry this one was a little short. I already have most of chapter 18 written out, I just need to transfer it onto my laptop, so you can expect it either tomorrow or tuesday... I have midterms tomorrow, so wish me luck! love you guys :)


	18. 18-Travel Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pidge in holding, ocean drive, keith goes to the airport, pleasant surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song  
> picture
> 
> enjoy~~

"Hello?" Keith mumbled into his phone. It was 4 o'clock in the morning, Sunday.

"Hey, Keith," Pidge's words were long and drawn out; he sounded guilty.

"What do you want," Keith groaned.

"Well, I'm in holding."

Keith bolted up in bed, "You're in  _jail_?!" he bellowed.  Lance murmured something inaudible at Keith, blindly smacking him flatly in the chest with the back of his hand before burying his head under his pillow.

"No! Not jail!...  _holding_." Keith shook the sleep off his weary body and started pulling on his sweatpants.

"Sit tight... I'm coming."

...

"Yeah, she was being rude to a police officer," the deputy told Keith, sounding bored. Her southern accent pulled out her vowels, turning 'rude' into 'rooduh', and 'police' into 'puh-leese'. Keith bit his lip to prevent himself from correcting Pidge's pronouns. He knew Pidge's Tumblr bio...  _My gender is science_.

Keith fidgetted as they waited for Pidge to come out of the heavy wooden door. The police station was clean and bright, with a receptionist desk and soft waiting room chairs and scrubbed linoleum tile floors.

When Pidge walked in, Keith stood, shoving his phone in his back pocket. A police officer handed Pidge his belongings in a plastic bag, which contents included a bulky laptop and several other strange devices. Pidge's green headphones were slung casually around his neck, and Keith ruffled his hair as Pidge smiled up at him apologetically. His arm slung around Pidge's shoulders, Keith led the two outside to the parking lot, where Keith's motorcycle stood patiently.

"So, what happened?" Keith asked, Pidge sliding behind him on the seat, clutching his plastic bag to his chest. The air was muggy and cool, but not cold yet. Keith would have to start borrowing Hunk's old Jetta soon... He drove slowly so he could hear Pidge over the wind.

"I was on a task from the agency I work for. They've been suspicious of this gang for a while so they sent me to their hideout. I was supposed to mess with the gang's computer systems so their tracking devices shut down, but they had a backup generator for their security cameras so they caught me. After they called the police, I told them what agency I was from, and they got all scared and shit." Pidge laughed, "It was actually pretty funny.

"Anyways, they decided not to press charges or anything, I guess they didn't wanna get my agency's top hacker jailed, so they just told the police I looked suspicious. But the police officer that came kept calling me 'she' and 'her', even though I told him almost a thousand times that I identified as a  _guy._ So I think I went off a bit too much, ended up yelling, I think." Keith sighed, but he was smiling.

"Thank you, by the way. I know this is a hassle."

"It's no problem, Lance told me I was being a blanket-hog anyways." The two boys grinned and Pidge leaned his head against Keith's shoulder, breathing in the strong smell of shaving cream and espresso. 

The town was quiet and dark at this time of the morning, with only a few cars on the road. Keith's engine purred gently underneath the two as they palled under streetlights and stars. The tall brick buildings dwindled as they got onto the side roads, past the bay where the ocean was calm and quiet, the breeze that blew off it sending salty air to Pidge and Keith's noses.

Small sandpiper nests were sewn upon the grass on the slopes leading down to the beach beside the road, abandoned from their migratory makers. Keith could drive on the yellow lines as he drove alone on the road, pushing his motorcycle faster as Pidge's breath came fast, exhilarated. Keith couldn't remember the last time Pidge had been on his motorcycle. He took Pidge's happy whoops as a good sign though, as they dipped through curves, leaning into the slopes and turns of the road, his fingers curled perfectly around the handles.

"Hey, by the way..." Keith said slowly, shifting to a slower speed so Pidge could hear him. It occurred to him that neither of them were wearing helmets. He was a bad influence. "I'm gonna be going to Texas in a few days to see my mom for a week or so."

"Why?" Pidge asked, leaning forward.

"She's sick. In the hospital."

"Keith..." Pidge shifted on the motorcycle and Keith kept his eyes on the road, drifting back into his proper lane instead of the middle of the road, steady and balanced.  _Stay steady and balanced, steady and balanced_.

"I'm sorry," Pidge said, and Keith rolled his shoulders.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he told Pidge, but the brunette didn't reply.

Keith dropped him off at his dorm and watched his small frame shuffle inside, then turn back to Keith and wave. Keith waved back, then turned his motorcycle around and slid back onto the road, sweeping along like the ocean current to his apartment.

It was 4:32 when Keith arrived back at his apartment. Lance was still asleep, of course. Keith stood beside him, looking over his perfect face, cheeks flushed from the heat of the blankets, lips parted, messy brown hair splayed over the pillow around his head.

Keith felt a sudden burst of emotion for his boyfriend as he slipped under the sheets, sliding down to Lance's stomach, soft with peachfuzz, but firm with light indentations of abs that Keith could feel under his fingers in the dark. He pressed his lips to Lance's stomach, right above his belly button, and wrapped his arms around Lance's waist.

One of Lance's hands unconsciously ran through Keith's hair, and Keith sighed, blowing air across Lance's warm, brown torso. Lance turned from his side to his back, and Keith followed, resting his head on Lance's sternum, his hands reaching up over Lance's chest, thumbs on his pectorals, fingertips on his shoulders. He could feel Lance's heartbeat under his palms, hear it through his ribcage. He kissed Lance's bare skin once more before closing his eyes, falling asleep as Lance's warm arms curled around him.

...

Keith secured his trenchcoat around himself, picking up his suitcase. Lance smiled at him sadly. It was Tuesday, the day he was to leave for Texas, and he had been up since dawn, packing and repacking and then finally waking Lance up for advice on his fashion choices. Lance was good at that.

"I'll see you soon," Keith assured him, and Lance nodded, hopping off the counter and wrapping his arms around Keith, rubbing their noses together.

"I'll miss you," Lance said, and Keith nodded.

"Don't have any parties without me. Don't go to that weird strip club either!" Lance laughed and hugged Keith tightly.

"Call me anytime."

"You big lug, you'd sleep through the ringtone," Keith mumbled into Lance's shoulder. They pulled back just enough to kiss, and then Lance pushed Keith out the door, insisting that he was going to get too needy and force Keith to stay.

"Text me when you land! I love you!" Lance called as Keiths stepped into the waiting taxi.

"I love you more!" Keith shouted, grinning. Lance watched silently, hands on his hips, as his boyfriend drove away, then headed to his closet.

...

Keith kind of loved the airport. He loved all the people that walked around with clicking heels and briefcases. He loved the little candy shops with jars of gummy bears and rolls of Smarties. He even loved how stupidly over-priced the coffee was because the stores knew that the people would buy it. He loved how he could walk like a movie star, sunglasses on, beanie covering his hair, long trench coat billowing out behind him as he rolled his sleek black suitcase.

Keith packed light-a lot of his clothes were still at his mom's house anyways- and his suitcase was relatively small, but not small enough. He watched it roll away from him on the conveyor belt to the plane as he checked in, sighing slightly as he realized he'd have to make a stop at baggage claim afterward now.

Of course, he bought an outrageously expensive coffee at Starbucks and made to his gate with time to spare. The sky outside was starting to get brighter, the sun rising into the clouds as the moon disappeared as it's thin slip of pale light. Keith's excitement for seeing his parents grew with every passing minute.

When the plane started boarding, Keith handed his ticket to the attendant quickly, then hurried down the long ramp to the plane. His canvas bag, containing books, his laptop, phone, charger, miscellaneous this-and-thats, slung over his shoulder.

The plane was pretty small, a single-aisle body with blue seats. 'K-3' was his seat number, so he made his way down the aisle, counting through the alphabet. He hoped the person next to him wouldn't snore or want to have a conversation for the entire two-hour flight, or worse, be squirming, screaming little kid. All three of these variables had occurred on his flight before, and, while he could handle snoring (headphones), and chatty neighbors (ignoring them until they gave up, camping out in the bathroom), but Keith wasn't good with kids, especially fidgetting, snotty-nosed ones with a constant need of the bathroom... Keith just wasn't good with them.

 _H... I... J..._  A person reading a newspaper that obscured their face was sitting in Keith's seat. The window seat beside them was empty.

"Um, excuse me, I think you're sitting in my seat, maybe your seat is the one by the window?" Keith said to the person. It was then that he noticed that they were wearing a familiar pair of black Adidas pants... The figure lowered the newspaper. The brunette's eyes twinkled ocean blue, and a mischevious grin was spread across his lips.

"Should I move then?"

"Lance?!" Keith stood in the aisle, dumb-founded. Thankfully, there was no one behind him waiting in line- the 'K' aisle was near the back.

"The one and only," Lance said, and scooched over to the window seat, patting Keith's seat invitingly. Shoving his bag under the seat in front of him, Keith sat down, grabbing Lance's hand and kissing his knuckles.

"How'd you get here?" he asked.

"Well, of course, being the valiant, handsome boyfriend I am, I couldn't just let you go into the big, wide world without me. I bought plane tickets right after you did, so we could sit together," Lance batted his eyelashes. "I wanted to meet your mom, too! Oh, do you take after her or your dad? What will your dad think of me? Does he  _brood_  like you?" Lance poked Keith's cheeks and grinned, "I'm gonna be an amazing son-in-law." Keith almost choked.

"What?" Keith's cheeks were bright red.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm not proposing yet," Lance said airily, waving his hand in the air lazily, but Keith was suddenly frozen, Lance's words stuck in his head. Married to Lance...? That's an idea... Keith suddenly imagined Lance in a wedding dress and turned away from his boyfriend, trying to hide his blush. Good grief.

Lance was still talking, "I know  _I_  take after my dad, just skin tone and stuff... Keith. Cariño. Mi Amor." Keith looked up, "Is it okay that I came?" Lance's blue eyes were big and worried.

Keith kissed Lance's cheek and smiled slightly, "Yeah. I'm happy you're here." He settled back into his seat, holding Lances hand.

"Hey, um, so Keith, the last time I was on a plane was when I was 5, coming over from Cuba."

Keith nodded. "And?"

"Well, I'm a little, tiny, molecular bit afraid of heights." Keith blinked.

"You're what?"

Before Lance could reply, the plane's engine started and Lance jumped, scrambling to secure his seatbelt and yanking on the strap to tighten it.

"Lance, oh my god," Keith groaned and wrapped his arms around Lance's small shoulders.

"I cant help it!" Lance wailed loudly and Keith shushed him, pulling on his shoulder so the brunette curled into Keith's chest. Keith squeezed Lances hand as the plane rumbled, then slowly started rolling towards the runway. The pavement yawned out in front of them like the ocean, with the sparkles on the asphalt like the sun on the crests of waves. The plane was still for a few minutes.

Suddenly, the plane rumbled loudly and Lance's fingers tightened around Keith, and then they were moving again, picking up speed. The plane streaked past the flashing lights, and then, in a matter of seconds, they were off the ground. Lances eyes were squeezed shut as the plane tipped right, and even Keith's stomach twisted as they pulled the tight turn.

Lance opened his eyes as they leveled out, pulling up into cloud cover. The blue sky opened up and wrapped around the plane in a domed blanket. Lances jaw went slack as he looked out over the puffy clouds and Keith felt the muscles in Lances back relax. His blue eyes shone as he looked up at Keith. "This is so fricken cool," he breathed, and Keith laughed, nestling into Lance as they watched the clouds outside together.   
...  
'Baggage Claim' rolled across the light-up belt sign as Keith and Lance waited for their suitcases. Lance had thanked and winked at every single stewardess on the plane as Keith dragged him down the aisle, rolling his eyes at the giggling women. They grabbed their suitcases and found their way outside, hailing a taxi and loading their stuff in the trunk, sitting in the backseat together.

The Texas air was dry and neutrally temperatured, and Keith could feel a slight southern accent sliding over his tongue as he told the cab driver his parent's address, soaking in the afternoon sun as he leaned into Lance, home again.


	19. 19-Mom, I'm Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and lance arrive at keiths house, acxa and nate find that keith is gaaaay, keith and acxa talk, domestic klance cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pic: http://thevocalrange.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Voltron-Keith-Father-1024x577.jpg  
> song: Please Forgive Me- David Grey
> 
> good song good song!! enjoy :)

Keith's house was modern. His mother kept a small, neat garden, or tried to, but she wasn't much of a green thumb so Keith's dad did most of the work. The grass was trimmed, but not manicured. The driveway led into a one-car garage, and the house was painted an off-white, verging on eggnog-colored. It looked like a pancake, wide with white shutters, and a door the color of maple syrup.

Keith smiled when he saw the olive-green mailbox and he thrummed his fingers on the faux-leather seats of the taxi as the driver pulled up. Keith threw some cash through the window then raced to the truck, heavily out Lance's and his bags onto the driveway before bouncing impatiently for Lance, "Cmon, cmon, cmon!"

Lance laughed and they walked up to the front door together, Keith not hesitating velvet knocking. There was a loud, muffled shriek from inside the house and Keith felt his heart jump happily as the thin shape of his mother rushed to the door through the stained-glass window.

Flinging open the oak barrier, the middle-aged women flew into Keith's arms, strong and fragile at the same time.

"Keith!" Axca cried loudly, and Keith pinched his eyes shut, his mother's arms around his neck, the fabric of her headscarf on his cheek.

"You're a bad son for not visiting in so long! I have to get cancer for you to come!" She exclaimed, and Keith's heart crumpled a bit, reminding him of the awful situation his mother was actually in.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry." Acxa pulled away to look at Keith top-to-bottom.

"I mean, you don't even have a busy social life or anything," Acxa teased, and Keith groaned, but he was smiling.

Acxa Kogane was an average-height (but not taller than Keith), strongly-built, thin woman with the legs of a runner and a sharp jawline with blazing blue eyes. Her head was wrapped in a thin, colorful scarf, but Keith knew that the cancer wasn't the cause of its appearance.

Acxa was kind but strict. She basically spoiled Keith when he was younger sometimes, but was also the source of his mental strength (even though, for the past few months, he'd been a total wreck). She was a rock, an anchor, and totally badass when she wanted to. Modest, she kept her hair in a headscarf, hiding her bleached, then dyed 50 times over roots, which were too damaged for her to stand. They were from her 2o's when she was a fearless punk rebel who ran away from home. Over the years, she had mended the relationship with her parents, but Keith wasn't too fond of his extended family either.

Keith knew the stories from her rocker friends about how she went 'soft' when she met Nate, Keith's dad. Apparently, she had shaved her head and started wearing scarves instead of her weekly bleaches and color-swaps, throwing away her dark eyeshadow and switching to neutral tones. Her friends said she switched from "badass, bitchin' chic" to "badass but calm mom-style".

Keith had seen pictures of his mom her 20's and, frankly, he would be pretty intimidated by her. She came from Korean descent, the source of the family-of-three's last name. Keith had gotten his face from her, but his hair was more like his dads...

Previously to meeting Acxa, Nate had been an office worker, bland and bored. The thick scar across his eyebrow was the result of a hunting accident with his friends in Maine, and it made him look cool and rustic. Nate was actually really sweet dad, though, with a thick, deep southern accent that sounded warm and calm. He had gone to law school to become a lawyer and now worked in Property, dealing with disputes and such, but also an intense environmental advocate. When Nate had brought Acxa and four-year-old Keith to see Yellowstone, he had been nearly speechless for the first three days.

Keith's parents had married early and had Keith when Acxa was 28, Nate 31. Their wedding photos were filled with sunflowers and Acxa's unique dress and Nate in a blue bow tie. Keith thought Acxa and Nate Kogane were possibly the best parents in the world.

Keith's thoughts were interrupted by Nate showing up behind Acxa, face sunny with a smile.

Acxa's faze fell on Lance and her smile brightened. "Whos this?" She looked over her shoulder at her husband and Keith knew that look. That was a suggestive look. That was a 'Is our son gay?' look. Yes, yes he is. Your son, Keith Kogane, is gay. Yes, yes, yes.

Here goes.

"This is Lance." The next words stuck in Keith's throat like peanut butter until he managed to cough them out, "My boyfriend."

Lance didn't miss a beat. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kogane." He stuck out his hand for her to shake, spreading his lips in Keith's favorite, vibrant sunshine-smile, where his cheeks were rosy and crows-feet crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. Acxa beamed, pleased.

"Call me Acxa," she replied, shaking his hand. Lance's eyes found Nate's and he reached out to the man too, shaking hands firmly with Keith's father. 

"It's good to meet you, Lance. I guess Keith forgot to mention you," Nate looked pointedly at Keith, who smiled guiltily. 

"Well, anyways, we can talk inside, come in, I made chili," Acxa said and Keith grabbed the suitcases before following his parents inside. 

The front door opened into the living room. To the side, there was a bulky computer placed on a desk covered with papers an against the left wall was a sofa with a white blanket draped across the top. Shelves of books lined the walls and posters with various eco-friendly parades and milestones on the walls. To the right was a doorway that led into the kitchen, a small one with pots and pans hanging on a swing-rack above the sink. A large pot of chili bubbled on the stove, filling the room with various spice smells. 

Keith almost felt self-conscious- Lance's house, even though it held three generations of a family, was neat and clean and very homely and bright. Keith's house was smaller, and the lights were dimmer. Keith knew it was because his father didn't like using too much electricity, but he still felt a little weird as he led Lance around. 

As the four sat around the table, Acxa brought the chili to the center and brought out bowls. 

"This smells delicious, Mrs. Kogane," Lance said serenely, polite as ever, even though Acxa had tried to correct him earlier. 

"Thank you, Lance," Acxa said, meeting his eyes, "So, where are you from?"

"I'm originally from Cuba, but I moved to Washington when I was five." 

"Does your family live in Washington with you?" 

Lance nodded, "Yeah, we're a pretty big family so we wanted to stay close." 

Acxa turned to her son, "Keith, have you met Lance's parents?" 

Keith paused from wolfing down chili. "I have," he said, then added, "They're pretty awesome."

Acxa gave Nate that strange smile again and Keith looked to Lance. He found his hand under the table and squeezed it gently. Lance didn't seem nervous at all to be meeting Keith's parents. Keith remembered his jitters from seeing Lance's parents, but it had quickly dissolved when he had discovered how kind they were... Keith went back to his chili. 

Acxa and Nate continued to ask how Lance and Keith had met, what classes they were taking, asking about Shiro and Allura, being pleasantly surprised when Keith told them that his best friend and boss were dating. Overall, Lance and Acxa and Nate got along pretty well, and they all seemed to smile with each other, but the sharp ache in Keith's heart intensified every time he looked at his mother. He promised to be the best son he could from now on, for her. 

...

Keith inhaled deeply as he poured the dish soap over the plates, lemon and sandalwood. The suds filled his head and hands with bubbles. 

"Sweetheart, I can do that," Acxa protested, but Keith shook his head.

"No, Mom, it's okay." 

Lance and Nate were in the living room, chatting about various things, and Keith felt comfortable that they would get along. It was after dinner, and the night was falling over the house. Acxa stood beside her son, drying the dishes quietly.

"How do you feel?" Keith asked Acxa, swiping his hair off his forehead with the back of his wrist because his hands were wet. 

His mother sighed, "It's hard to eat," she said slowly, "I have these sores on the back of my throat so it's not easy to swallow. I drink a lot of shakes. Sometimes food just doesn't taste good." Keith listened carefully. "They're offering me a feeding tube, but I don't want it until I absolutely need it. Chemotherapy isn't too bad, but I want to stop it because it's not working," Acxa continued, placing a plate on the dishrack. Keith noticed how thin her wrists were. He noticed how thin  _she_  was. "And I'm  _tired_." Acxa looked up at Keith, grimacing, "I'm so tired, all the time." 

Keith turned off the tap and wrapped his arms around his mom. He closed his eyes and he was a little boy again, clinging to the hem of her shirt as he hid behind her, meeting the neighbors, he was so shy back then. Acxa rubbed Keith's back and he knew she was crying. 

"I'm so proud of you, Keith," Acxa said, and Keith felt tears rising up in his eyelids, so he closed his eyes, "Never stop being so amazing. You have so much potential, sweetpea, do great things, okay? I know you will, and I'm gonna be there for all of them, just not where you can see me." Keith's shoulders shook. He didn't remember his mom being this thin. It was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking that she was accepting this so well. She was so passive. Keith cried hard into her shoulder.

...

"Goodnight, guys, I assume you won't need me to dig out the air mattress, right?" Nate asked as he and Acxa walked upstairs. 

"No, we'll be fine," Keith told him, "Thanks, Dad. G'night." Nate nodded and climbed up the creaky steps behind Acxa. 

Lance stood from the couch, lifting his arms up and stretching, screwing his face up. The four of them had been chatting for an hour after dinner, and now Keith was feeling fairly exhausted. He walked over to Lance and cupped his cheeks in his hands. Lance's eyes were dark blue and beautiful. Keith kissed him gently and then pulled back, smiling shyly, "I've been meaning to do that all day." 

Keith had refrained from kissing Lance in front of his parents because he thought, 1.) It would be a little weird and 2.) He wasn't sure his parents had fully gotten used to the idea yet. They might have thought it for a long time, but that didn't mean that they were immediately going to just brush off a random kiss between the two boys. Knowing Acxa, she'd tease Keith mercilessly. 

"I'm actually pretty tired," Lance admitted, fluffing up Keith's hair, and the two grabbed their bags and headed upstairs. 

Keith sighed and he looked back at Lance before entering his room, "I have no idea when I last cleaned it, by the way, so it probably looks like shit," he warned. 

Lance shrugged, "Can't be worse than mine." Keith rolled his eyes and opened his door. Surprisingly, his mother had cleaned. 

Keith's room was smallish, its walls painted a pale yellow, but covered with posters of bands and concerts and people covered in black mesh and dark lips. Polaroids and sticky notes and hand-written cards were stuck up on a corkboard with red 'You Are Here' thumbtacks holding them up. Strings of fairy lights and small light bulbs were strung across the ceiling, and the floor, covered by a woven red and white rug, was otherwise hardwood. A dresser stood off to the side, and a bookshelf of Stephen King and Dana Chambers books, along with others, stood next to it. 

"Murder mystery?" Lance asked, running his finger over the spine of ' _She'll be Dead by Morning_ '. Keith nodded, a bit embarrassed.

"They're really good." Lance nodded slightly, then moved on to the corkboard. Photos of Keith, photos of Shiro, photos of Keith and Shiro, photos of black and white trees and a porch and Acxa. Lance quirked a smile.

"You do photography," he said, and it wasn't really a question. Keith nodded and looked at the pictures with him. There was one of him when he was little, birthday cake smeared across his face, and one of him in his emo stage, black everything, Pidge standing next to him, her long hair bushy and messy. 

"Holy crap, you look... hot but really freaking  _dark,"_ Lance said, then walked back to his suitcase, unzipping it and digging through the contents. Keith opened his dresser and found an old t-shirt and a pair of red boxers, and he changed quickly, back to Lance. His boyfriend had seen him naked before, but that was when it was dark and they were both delirious with how cold it was. 

Lance came up behind him as he was putting on his shirt and kissed the side of his neck. 

"I'm glad you're here," Keith said quietly, leaning back into Lance. The two stumbled into bed, but since it was only a twin, Lance ended up laying on top of Keith to 'conserve space'. Keith didn't mind. His room was normally pretty cold because it had two windows and a small heat vent, but Lance's warmth flowed over his body comfortingly. 

Keith kissed Lance's forehead gently and buried his nose in his brown hair, smelling his peach-scented shampoo before falling back against the pillows, Lance's arm under his head. Curling an arm around Lance's back, Keith let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) so i've kind of been thinking, and ive realized that the end of this fic isn't as close as I thought. I keep an unpublished chapter in this book where I keep my notes for scenes i want to happen, and ive realized that there are a lot of little scenes that i still need to write in. the plot will still go smoothly, but these scenes will add length so there will likely be 4 or 5 more chapters, maybe even more. a lot of these correlate with fanart that I've saved over the course of writing this piece because im constantly browsing for new klance material to put at the beginnings of my chapters, as youve noticed. while I do this, i find a lot of pictures that give me ideas for little scenes that i want to incorperate. i think its really good to have pictures and inspiration when youre writing stuff because i think, for me at least, it helps me visualize what im actually explaining in the fic. I wish i could draw, but i think ill stick with writing because i can literally draw stick figures and unrealistic eyes with terrible eyelashes. A n y w a y s, sorry for blabbing, my point is, this fic still has several chapters to go. I'm busy busy busy writing this because I already have another book to write lined up after this one called 'Pink Champagne' which is a sequel for my most popular fic (on wattpad, that is), 'Yellow Roses'. If you're a MysMes fan, go check it out :) (discret self-promo lol i hate myself theres no obligation or pressure)
> 
> chapter 20 (whoot whoot~~) should be out sometime this week because, unlike this chapter, i don't have writers block! huehuehueh, i'll see you lovelies later~ byyyye, have a good week!


	20. 20-Sailing Skies and Seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and lance wake up and have pancakes, then go to the art museum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song: already gone by sleeping at last  
> pic:

"Keith... Keeeith... Keith, c'mon, you're normally up before me. My arm is numb, Keith, oh my god. Mi Amor... Mullet, I swear-"

"Shhh..." Keith shushed, turning his body to face Lance, "Warm. You're warm."

"Am I your personal heater now?"

"Yes. Didn't you read the contract?"

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith, pulling him to his chest. "What contract?"

"Our relationship contract," Keith mumbled into Lance's shirt, and Lance tumbled a laugh, his morning voice gravely and deep.

Keith liked the rumble as he breathed Lance in, his cologne and peach shampoo. He would be perfectly content laying here forever. He had slept surprisingly well last night, probably a combination of Lance's intense warmth and the comfort of his own bed.

"I think your mom's making food downstairs," Lance tempted, brushing Keith's hair off his forehead. Groaning, Keith sat up, sitting directly on top of Lance while stretching. Lance looked up and him, smiling like a toddler.

"What?" Keith mumbled, pouting.

"Your hair... I guess I haven't noticed your bed head before." Lance laughed and Keith desperately tried to smooth down his wild hair but to no avail. The bed was situated right in front of a window, and as Keith looked outside into the pale morning, he noticed the leaves outside, red and orange and yellow.

Keith reached out his hand and pressed it flat against the glass. It was freezing cold. Lance reached up and brushed his fingers over Keith's forearm. When Keith removed his hand, a handprint was spread over the glass in condensation.

"We'll be going home on Halloween," Keith said slowly. Lance nodded and suddenly smiled.

"About that, I have a dance recital that day. The whole team is doing a group dance and then I have a solo. You'll come, right?"

Keith looked down at him. "Yeah, of course, I'll come." He climbed out of bed and grimaced at how cold the floor was on his bare feet. Keeping on his boxers, he dug through his dresser, searching until he found what he was looking forward.

Pulling the wool over his feet, Keith noticed how long the multi-colored socks were. They went up past his knees but weren't quite thigh-highs as they stopped just above the joint. Lance was climbing out of bed too now, and Keith grabbed his boyfriend's shirt off the floor, flashing a grin at him before pulling it on.

Lance's t-shirt was soft and thin and lifted ombre from a deep cobalt into pale seafoam green. Keith turned to show Lance but was instead faced with the caramel skin of his back. Muscled and with a veil of freckles spotting down his shoulders and fading to his mid-back. Keith's jaw went slack. Lance looked over his shoulder, a sly smile on his lips, and looked Keith up and down.

"You look hot," he said, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. Keith blushed, then, flustered, walked out of his room and headed downstairs, Lance hurrying behind him.

"Morning, boys!" Keith's dad said happily from the couch. He was reading the newspaper and it probably had good news about the environment by his good mood.

"Morning, Dad," Keith said, walking into the kitchen. Lance lingered with Nate to talk about the paper. In the kitchen, Acxa was making pancakes on a large griddle, a bowl of pancake batter on her right. She was wearing an apron and there were large smudges of pale flour all over it. Acxa smiled at Keith from the pancakes. Her head was wrapped in a scarf with dragon designs on it, the front twisted then looped to tuck under in back. Keith stole a steaming pancake and shoved it in his mouth when she wasn't looking, breathing heavily since it was so hot.

Acxa buzzed around the kitchen and eventually sent Keith to the dining table with a large stack of pancakes, making him set place settings first with knives and spoons and forks even after Keith protested that  _who would eat pancakes with a freaking spoon?_

As Keith began smothering his pancakes in syrup, Lance and Nate walked in, sharing a smile of some natural law that was passed and sat down, Lance next to Keith, Nate across him with a space beside him for Acxa.

Covered in syrup (the real kind, not that Aunt Jemima shit) and butter, the pancakes were absolutely amazing. Keith's fingers were sticky and his stomach felt warm and full.

"I think I've gained about twenty pounds, Mom," he said aloud, and Acxa nodded, smiling contentedly.

"I was thinking we could go out into town today. They've opened a new exhibit at the art museum and your father and I have been wanting to go. You in?" Acxa asked as she began clearing the plates.

Keith looked at Lance for confirmation. Lance nodded happily.

"Let's do it."

...

The art museum was a wide two-story building with a white-wash exterior, three sets of dark double doors with security guards standing by them. Long colorful banners hung down from street lamps, displaying the new exhibits and clips of the paintings.

Keith held Lance's hand as they crossed the street, Acxa and Nate in front of them. The marble steps up to the museum were shiny and square, and Keith found himself slightly out of breath as they reached the top. He looked down at his classic red Vans as he caught his breath. Lance was already moving forward through security.

The art museum opened into a huge circular lobby with a sculpture of a school of hundreds of tiny golden fish towering over the reception desk. Four exhibits opened in each direction, and then stairs lead up to another floor with more exhibits. Keith glanced at the signs. 'Minimalist', 'Abstract', 'Impressionism', 'Contemporary'. Large signs read the exhibits upstairs, 'Charcoal Sketch', 'Ocean and Sea', 'Popart', 'Cubism'. Keith looked at Lance and he knew that he would like the ocean and sea exhibit the most.

"Keith?" Acxa was calling.

"Hmm?" Keith lifted his eyes from the signs to look to his mom.

Acxa was fiddling with her purse strap. "Dad and I are gonna start down here, do you want to come with us or go off on your own?" Keith chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I want to show Lance the Ocean and Sea exhibit first, and then we'll come find you." He replied, and Acxa waved at him before leading her husband towards the 'Minimalist' doorway. Keith knew the layout of the museum- he had been coming here since he was a kid. His mind wandered briefly to a painting that had been here his whole life, his favorite because of that, and wondered if, in his absence, it had been moved to a new museum. He made a mental note to check for it later.

"There's an exhibit for ocean and sea, do you want to check it out?" Keith asked Lance, sliding his fingers over Lance's palm and in between Lance's own fingers. Lance looked at him, excited.

"Of course I do!"

Along the shallow sloping ramp that led up to the second floor, the wall was lined with paintings, a timeline through the ages, styles and techniques of artists throughout the centuries. Some paintings, like the Mona Lisa (kept in the Louvre in Paris) and Starry Night (kept in MoMA in New York City), were enlarged and printed on the wall instead, revealing individual paint strokes and details missed by the original pieces. Still, Keith had always wanted to see both.

As the couple made their way up onto the second floor, they walked slowly, eyes wide as they looked at each painting. Keith looked out of the corner of his eye at Lance. He knew that his boyfriend was a dancer, so he must appreciate art in some way, but he had been nervous before in bringing Lance to an art museum; he didn't want to bore the brunette.

However, Lance was seeming to enjoy this, his eyes floating over every painting, cheeks rosy and pink above the dark wool scarf wound around his neck. Keith sighed in relief. He hoped Lance wouldn't think he was a nerd because of this.

The two entered the Ocean and Sea exhibit and they were plunged into deep blue light. The hallway that led into the exhibit was short but dark, nothing but florescent blue lights streaming down from the ceiling. Hidden speakers played the sound of the ocean waves and bubbles and Keith felt a hum in his chest when he saw Lance smile. 

Upon entering the exhibit, Lance's eyes turned to saucers. The area was constructed of a square room with a large square pillar in the center, it's four walls displaying paintings. The walls surrounding it, creating an open area, all had paintings on them as well, and then a hallway led into the next room, which was rectangular and had a much larger wall space for paintings. An 'S'-shaped bench sat calmly in the middle of the rectangle room and an elderly couple sat next to each other on the bench. Lance walked forward slowly, admiring the art. 

Brush strokes formed waves and blobs of acrylic shaped into elegant dolphins that seemingly lept out of the canvas. Keith followed Lance around the exhibit, watching the paintings and the tilt in Lance's head when he saw something he liked. Keith squeezed Lance's hand tightly. He didn't let go until they were outside, mid-afternoon after they had finished up at the museum. 

Keith had shown Lance his favorite painting to Lance, a huge astronaut looking down at and cradling a tiny Earth in its gloved fingers. He told Lance that he had wanted to be an astronaut when he was little. Lance had wanted to be a sailor. 

_"I'll sail the stars, you the ocean, and we'll kiss where the sea meets the sky."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) do you like so far? new chapters this weekend, maybe tomorrow because i have the day off, but no promises haha <3 love you guys


	21. 21-He Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the night before keith and lance go back home, some acxa-to-lance talk, and then some klangst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song: Eulogy from the Stranger Things OST  
> ^this song is absolutely gorgeous and i listened to it on repeat the entire time I was writing this chapter hahaha i love stranger things ive already watched season 2 three times wHEEZE

The rest of the week was spent waking up late, going out into the city and towns nearby to see stores and tourist attractions. Every night, they would come home and have dinner and read and talk in the living room, then head up to bed late, and Lance would fall asleep on top of Keith, his breath warm and his bare chest warmer. 

As it got colder and colder outside, Keith lost more layers of clothes he wore to bed. Lance was plenty warm, even if they just wore boxers. Keith was always nervous his parents would barge in, but he chided himself, knowing his parents knew the concept of knocking. Lance didn't though, not really. He'd already walked in on Keith peeing twice, and then casually strolled in when Keith was showering. Both times, he had glanced at Keith up and down and then moved on, not really phased. Keith almost died of embarrassment. 

Lance and Keith's parents got along surprisingly well, and Lance would often sit with Nate in the morning and chat about the news. Keith hadn't known he was so politically smart, but Nate was impressed. For Acxa, Lance was an angel, always asking to clean things up or help make food. Acxa always brushed him off, but sometimes he persisted and she allowed him to clean up after dinner or lunch. 

Acxa was weary and growing thinner. Keith noticed how slowly she ate, and the blender, sparkling clean, sat on the counter, Acxa sometimes whisking away to it to make herself something she could actually eat. The circles under her eyes grew darker, but she was refusing chemotherapy now, even as Nate pleaded. When Keith asked her why, she turned to him, an odd expression on her face, determined but scared.

"I was put on this Earth with a certain amount of time to do everything I wanted to. I've done all those things. I've been a crazy teenager into my twenties, I've fallen in love, I've had a son, I've visited so many places... I don't want to suffer this longer than I have to because this prolonged torture can really eat up the good things in life. I'll live with this as long as I can, but only with my own body helping me." Keith had gathered her up in his arms and hugged her tightly then, but not too tightly. 

It was Monday night, the day before Halloween and when Lance and Keith would go home, when Nate pulled out his telescope. 

"I haven't seen this thing in ages," Acxa commented from the couch, holding a cup of tea between her hands. 

"Me neither," Keith said excitedly, watching Nate reattach all the parts together, the long, heavy tube over the mount, everything sliding together perfectly. Keith loved his father's telescope, and Shiro knew because it was the exact same model he had gotten Keith for his birthday. This was the telescope of Keith's childhood. Keith thought he could spend years just staring up at the moon and focusing on the planets and stars so far away. 

Nate carried the long instrument outside onto the small porch, paint peeling away, the color of pale blue hydrangeas. The night was cold and Lance huddled up against Keith, pressing his warm hands into Keith's as Nate adjusted the focus onto the moon. Acxa stepped outside, wrapping her bathrobe around her thin frame. She wasn't wearing her headscarf now, and her head was bald and smooth. Keith looked at her once, then tugged off his beanie and pulled it down over her head. She looked at him and smiled. Keith put his arm around Lance's waist and leaned into him. Acxa gazed at her husband who was meticulously adjusting the focus of the telescope. Her heart ached and she already missed him. 

"Keith, come take a look," Nate said suddenly, and Keith shuffled forward, scooting beside Nate to look into the small eyepiece. He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets, searching for warmth. He stood there for a few minutes, making small adjustments, then turned back to Lance.   
  


"You  _have_  to check this out." Lance stepped closer to the sleek black instrument and Keith backed up to let him in. Lance heard Nate tell Keith that he wanted to show him a picture of the moon he had taken a month prior, during the harvest moon when the spinning rock was made a huge, orange orb in the sky. Keith followed Nate inside, leaving Lance and Acxa on the porch. Lance leaned down, careful not to touch the telescope in both fears of breaking it and shaking it out of the perfect alignment father and son had adjusted it to. 

He blew a soft exhale as he saw the planet, awestruck. Lance could see the appeal now, why Keith loved space so much. The moon was gorgeous through the telescope. Full and bright, he could see the craters and bumps on its surface, it's beauty as it loomed above them. Lance spoke quietly to Acxa, "Thank you."

He didn't quite know why he said it, but he meant it deep in his heart. Acxa reached out and placed a hand on Lance's arm, and he straightened, looking at her. The moon made her face pale and her cheekbones that jutted out created slight shadows on her hollow cheeks. Her eyes were full of the stars that Keith loved and that wrapped Lance in the calm of night. Acxa slipped her arm through Lance's and gazed up at the stars. 

"Take care of my son, okay? He's so strong, and I'm so proud of him, but you have to promise me that you'll help him through this because he can't do it alone." 

"I promise," Lance said, then bit his lip, debating whether or not to tell Acxa a statement his mind had been nagging him to say since he arrived at Keith's home. "I..." He started, then exhaled deeply, starting again. "I love Keith. And, someday, when we make it through all the stress and sadness, I want to marry him." Lance looked down at Acxa, and her smile was warm and beautiful. 

"Keith has been thinking the same thing," she said, and Lance's eyebrows shot up. She quickly corrected herself, "Well, he hasn't said anything, but I can tell by the way he looks at you. That's the same look Nate gives me, the same look I give him. I trust you, Lance. I think you're a wonderful fit for my Keith. I want Keith to be happy, and I can tell he's happy with you."

Lance smiled, "I'll try my best, Acxa. I promise I'll try my best. I promise." 

Acxa patted his hand, leading him back inside, "I know you will."

...

"Hey, have you seen my red turtleneck?" Keith asked as Lance brushed his teeth in the connecting bathroom. Lance shook his head and spit out the white bubbles, wiping his mouth and splashing his face with warm water before crossing into Keith's room. Keith was kneeling in front of his suitcase, packing everything tightly. Lance glanced over at his own suitcase, which he had had to sit on to make sure it zipped shut. Keith's case was neat and everything was folded. They had decided to pack that night because they were leaving early the next morning. It was only 10 pm but Lance was already dreading waking up at 4:45 to catch their 6:00 flight. They'd be in Washington around 8, and then the drive home was an hour with Shiro coming to pick them up at the airport. 

Keith shut his suitcase and looked up at Lance, smiling. "Are you ready for your recital tomorrow?" he asked, and Lance nodded. He had been practicing his moves a bit throughout the day, stretching and bending; Keith couldn't believe how flexible he was. 

"I think I'm going to like pigging out at the after-party more," Lance said, grinning, settling into bed. Keith pulled off his shirt and jeans, then crawled into bed next to Lance and his boyfriend settled on top of him like usual, tracing aimless designs on his pectoral, right above his heart. Keith turned off the light beside his bed, something that had remained the same since he was a toddler. the base was made up of a green and blue spotted dinosaur body, then the shade, and then the dinosaurs cartoonish head screwed on the top. Keith remembered going to elementary school after his father had taught him the names of the dinosaurs and telling anyone that would listen, "I have a brachiosaurus lamp!", chest puffed as he said the well-rehearsed word perfectly. 

Keith settled onto his back, looking up at the stars on his ceiling, and was about to fall asleep when his phone rang loudly. Jumping from surprise, Keith fumbled to flip it open to stop its incessant tone. "Hello?" He said quietly. His parents were on the other side of the wall.

"Hey, Keith. It's Shiro. I just wanted to confirm I'm picking you guys up tomorrow." Keith breathed a long exhale, so so so relieved to hear his best friend's voice. 

"Yeah, we'll get there around 8, so meet us at baggage claim," Keith said. 

"8, got it," Shiro confirmed. 

Keith smiled, "Thanks, man. You're saving my wallet from another taxi ride."

Shiro laughed, "No problem. See ya." Keith hung up. Lance was sitting up, a strange expression on his face. 

"Lance?"

"How long have you known Shiro?" Lance asked, tugging unconsciously at the quilt that lay over the bed. 

Keith frowned, puzzled, "Since I was a little kid, why?" 

"Did you ever like him?" Lance quickly corrected himself, "Like,  _like_  liked him?"

Keith thought back to sophomore year. Shiro's crew cut, his button-down shirts with cashmere vests over them, sleeves rolled up. He was on the lacrosse team and often carried around a gym bag with his school books for college. He was killer on the drums. Keith looked at Lance. 

"I suppose."

Lance turned away, and the moon outside which streamed into Keith's window made his jawline sharper and his collarbone protrude with shadows. Keith looked at Lance for a few moments, drinking him in. His brown skin turned milky pale with the moonlight, his hair darker by the shadows, his eyelashes over his cheeks with had the smallest freckles. His arms were long and thin, but his chest was strong. 

"Lance..." Keith started, but Lance turned to him and cut him off. 

"I know that I'm not Shiro. Shiro is... your best friend, and I think he's great and funny and kind, but I know I'll never be like him and I'll never be good enough for you, but I love you, and that's something only I can do. Only  _I_  can love you the way I can." Lance's eyes caught the moonlight and they went from dark ocean navy to icy bright blue, like the sky after it snows and his tears were diamond snowflakes that fell down the slopes of his cheeks. 

Lance was the ocean. He was the rippling currents and the cresting waves and the riptide that was pulling Keith in. Lance was winter with his blue eyes and white teeth and limbs like bare tree branches. Lance was the summer with skin that had been baked and burned by the hot sun and freckles as a result. He was spring with his rose-like cheeks and his smile that bloomed and his layers of emotions and surprises. He was autumn because he let old memories float to the ground and made way for new sunrises, layers of glimmering frost over Keith's past. Lance was the world and Keith was the universe that wrapped him up. 

Sitting up, Keith ran his thumb under Lance's eyes and brushed away the diamond droplets, flicking away the sadness. 

"I love you, Lance Mcclain. You're not Shiro, you're Lance. You're  _my_ Lance. I don't want anyone else. I just want you." 

The kiss was slow and sweet, and Lance's warmth covered up the cold of winter that was approaching. 


	22. 22-DC Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance head home and invite Shiro to Lance and Allura's dance recital on Halloween night~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello hello~  
> pic: https://d.wattpad.com/story_parts/493960146/images/14f7e582b0b6a063875321812323.jpg  
> song: i dont feel like doing anything right now.... - Syros

The ringing of Keith's alarm clock sounded sad. He turned to the side and shut it off, then looked down at Lance who lay beside him. The sky outside was still dark and the orange streetlights were the only source of visibility on the street- no one else was up yet. Keith looked down at Lance and brushed the brown hair off the boy's forehead. Last night, they had kissed until they fell asleep and now Keith's lips felt dry and bruised. He didn't mind though.

He nudged Lance gently, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Good morning, love. Time to go home." Lance shifted in his sleep but didn't wake up. Keith began pulling on a pair of soft black joggers and an American Eagle flannel button-up. "C'mon, babe, you can sleep in the car," Keith said gently as he hovered over Lance, who then opened his eyes.

"Morning already?" he mumbled.

"I wouldn't call 4 a.m. 'morning'," Keith joked softly. Lance smiled sleepily and slipped out of bed.

They dressed and packed up the rest of their belongings in silence before walking downstairs. Keith glanced back at his room as he creaked down the steps. Acxa and Nate were sitting at the table, dressed and looking only slightly tired.

"Let's stop for coffee on the road," Keith said to his mother, kissing her headscarf as he passed, "Lance and I can grab breakfast at the airport."

"I've packed you some muffins for the plane ride, they're in your bag," she said, and Keith nodded before stepping outside to load his bags into the car. The air was cool but not cold as Keith heaved his suitcase into the trunk of Nate's Jeep Cherokee, then shutting the trunk with a dull thump. Nate started the car and Keith headed back inside to grab any last items. His mother held her purse to her side and locked the door behind him as they left. Lance and Keith stayed in the backseat while Nate drove and Acxa rode passenger, and Lance quickly fell back asleep, leaning his head on Keith's shoulder. Nate and Acxa talked quietly in the front seat.

...

"Sweetheart, promise to call me more often," Acxa said, tearing up.

"I will, Mom," Keith said soothingly and hugged Acxa tightly. He felt his throat closing up and he closed his eyes into Acxa's shirt. Moisture built up behind his lashes and he bit the inside of his cheek, trembling slightly.

Acxa felt his tremors and she hugged him tighter and he knew she was crying too.

Pulling back, Keith held his mother at arms-length. "I'm coming home soon. Right after Battle of the Bands, we have holiday break and I'm flying down then, I've already got tickets." Acxa's mascara was running as she nodded.

"I love you, mom. I'll see you at Christmas."

"I'll see you at Christmas, sweetpea."

Keith hugged his dad fiercely and they exchanged words with their eyes. A look of fear answered with a look of reassurance.

"Love you." Keith hugged his mother once again, then walked, with Lance, to security. Keith bit back tears until they boarded the plane.

Keith had the window seat on the plane ride back home and he appreciated Lances mock-oblivion to his silent crying.

Lance was virtually unfazed by the plane this time and was stupidly amazed as they took off, which made Keith smile. However, they had only been in the air for 10 minutes before Keith broke and he turned to Lance. His boyfriend seemed to have been waiting for him because his arms were winding around Keith before he could say anything. Folded in Lance's warm arms, the sun through the window on his back, Lance stroked his hair soothingly.

"Shhh... It's okay," he hushed as Keith's shoulders shook. Lance was incredibly warm and soft in his giant sweatshirt, making Keith feel drowsy and relaxed. "Let's call her as soon as we land, hm?" Lance suggested, and Keith nodded. Exhaustion swept over Keith- he hadn't slept very well the previous night, despite his personal heater of a boyfriend- and he nudged his nose into Lance's shoulder inhaling tangerine cologne. As he fell asleep, he felt Lance wipe away the leftover tears on his cheeks and heard him begin to hum a slow, soft song, lulling Keith into unconsciousness.

...

Shiro met the couple at baggage claim as promised and his hug was anchoring and strong. Lance joined in too and, for a second, Keith forgot about that awful word 'cancer' because he was hugging two of his favorite people in the world and they were laughing like crazy. Shiro asked how Acxa and Nate were doing but nothing else, not pushing the topic too hard. They grabbed their bags off the conveyor belts and headed outside to the parking lot.

The drive home was filled with talk of the trip and skidding around talk of Acxa. Keith noticed and was relieved. He didn't know if he could stop crying again if he started. Washington was cool and damp as usual, and soggy Halloween decorations hung from houses and stood on lawns.

"I hope it clears up," Shiro mused, "I bought a shitload of candy and I  _will_  eat it all if no kids stop by."

"Why don't you come to my recital tonight then? Allura's going to be there," Lance tempted. Shiro perked up right away.

"I'll ask her," he said, "She mentioned something about a recital the other day but I didn't know if she wanted me to come."

"Well,  _I_  want you to come so you have to," Lance chirped from the backseat. Keith smiled at his boyfriend over his shoulder and settled back into the faux-leather, the seat-heater warm on his spine.

...  
"Remember, 7:00," Lance said, hopping off the motorcycle and slinging his dance bag over his shoulder.

"I know," Keith reassured him, catching Lance by the belt loop of his jeans and pulling him to his side.

It was 5:30 and Keith was dropping Lance off at the dance company building where he had practice until the show. The couple had spent the day doing school work and making festive Halloween cookies and, since Lance insisted that the recital's reception afterward (with food and socializing, the latter being something Keith wasn't looking forward to, but the promise of food was an irresistible enticement), doubled as a costume party, so Keith  _had_  to have a costume.

The two decided on Joker, with a purple tux and face paint that Lance made Keith promise to put on. Of course, Lance was dressing as Harley Quinn, and, personally, Keith was looking forward to it, even though he knew Keith was going to be flirting with anything that breathed at the party. Keith felt strangely okay with that now, after what Lance had said the previous night. Keith smiled at the thought.

Lance looked down at him, curiously puzzled. "I'll see you tonight," Keith said, then craned his neck up expectantly. Lance rolled his eyes, then bent down and kissed Keith quickly on the lips before dashing inside, waving at Keith before disappearing.

Keith smiled to himself, then pulled out his phone, scrolling down to the contact he was looking for. Phone to his ear, he waited for the ringtone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Shiro. Any idea how to put on face paint?"

...

"Babe! Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Keith, you too? Ugh, you guys look fabulous, come in, come in." Allura stood at the entrance of the company building, wearing a silky lilac dress that looked like chiffon that went down to her knees. She hugged Shiro delicately before kissing him on the cheek, then moved to Keith and hugged him too.

"We're not the only ones dressed up, right?" Keith asked nervously.

Allura laughed, "No, no, you're fine. It's a costume party, don't worry, we don't let anyone in without a costume." She shoved a pamphlet in Shiro's hands from a stack on a nearby table and pointed to the schedule printed on it. "The actual performances start in half an hour, but you can chat and wander for now. Head to Studio B, the big one, at 7:30, or maybe 7:25 to get good seats, because that's when we're starting. It's basically a showcase, my teacher's performing, the students dance, and it's all different kinds too. There's an intermission at 8:15 and then the show ends at 9:00ish." Allura turned to Keith, "If you want to see Lance now, you can head to Studio D, I think he's there stretching and getting ready, but don't hold him up- he's gotta get hair and makeup done." Keith nodded.

As another person entered the lobby, Allura pushed her boyfriend and employee into the foyer, waved, then walked to the entering patrons.

The foyer was uncharacteristically gigantic, and the hundreds of people shoved in it made it seem even bigger. Orange and black streamers hung from the low ceiling, and paper lanterns that looked like jack-o-lanterns hung next to them. Music played from the stereo in a corner and a long Hors d'oeuvres table was set up along a wall, filled with neon green cupcakes with sugary googly eyes and bowls of punch that looked like blood and guts.

Keith felt his stomach churn, but everything looked pretty good too. And then the people. All in costume, the way they walked was familiar. Keith noticed it was the same way Lance walked. Delicate and deliberate, vaguely cat-like. It was the way dancers walked.

Keith and Shiro floated around, chatting to each other and random groups along the way. At quarter past, Keith told Shiro he wanted to go say hi to Lance  Shiro nodded and continued to talk to the man in a zombie costume, reaching up to adjust his vampire cape. Shiro made a pretty good Dracula.

Keith made his way out of the foyer, then followed the signs to Studio D. It was down a long hallway lined with dancers who were stretching in costume, dazzlingly beautiful, long legs and stomachs flat against thin fabric.

Keith walked cautiously down to the door labeled 'D' and peeled inside. A jumble of people sat on the floor inside or swung their legs at the bars. Keith saw Lance almost immediately; he was talking with a group of girls in a big circle, leaning to his left, both hands clasped around his foot, leg straight with the other folded. His forehead touched his knee. Keith was amazed at how flexible Lance was. Quietly, he slipped into the room.

Lance straightened, then readjusted and sung his legs out into a side split. Keith tapped him on the soldier and dropped into a crouch.

"Hey," he said as his eyes fell into oceans. Lance slid out of his split and wrapped his arms around Keith's neck.

"Hey." His skin was soft and dewy and his breath smelled like coffee. Keith pulled back to look at the oceans again.   
Lances dark lashes fell over them when Keith kissed his forehead.

"When are you performing?"

"Act 2," Lance replied, "My solo act is in the beginning and the group performance is the last dance. You'll like it."

Keith nodded, "I️ just wanted to come wish you luck and tell you that you're going to be amazing and I'll see you after the show."

"Aww," Lance glanced at the girls he was sitting with, "Isn't he cute? Legit the sweetest boy I've ever met." They looked like high school students and they all laughed and nodded. Lance turned back to Keith and smiled sincerely, "Thanks, babe." 

"Kick ass out there," Keith told him, pecking him on the cheek. 

Lane saluted goofily, "Will do."

Keith walked out of the room but didn't head straight to the foyer right away. He stopped outside to his motorcycle and opened the back hatch, fishing a delicate purple bouquet, full of purples and indigos, consisting of violets, plum calla lilies, and Queen Anne's Lace. Keith smiled. Synesthesia had helped him out with this one- Lance was blue, he was red, blue and red together were purple. Keith smelled the flowers and then, satisfied, hurried back inside. It was too cold for the poor flowers. He hoped Lance would like them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys :) sorry its been so long, i've been crazy busy. update: Beat Drop should be finished around christmas time, if not by then, then in early january. after this is finished, i'll be working on a sequel to my short Mysmes fic "Yellow Roses" called 'Pink Champagne', and then after that I'll hopefully be back to voltron with a Mer!Lance and Human!Keith realistic klance fic... I hope you guys enjoy these last couple chapters, and happy thanksgiving!


	23. 23-Door Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the dances of studio b commence. allura and lance are awe-inspiring artists who receive applause and shiro and keith's hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! so for this chapter, i use different songs through the chapter, so instead of putting the songs here, i planted the videos there this time. let me know if this is more helpful than me putting the link in the notes, i just dont know if you guys actually listen to the songs or not lol ahahaha. anyways, enjoy enjoy enjoy :)

Studio B was huge. On the longer sides of its rectangular shape were sets of risers, three-tiered with chairs set upon them. Keith guessed there were at least 100 seats on both riders, then the chairs lined on the floor in front of them. People also stood on the edges of the huge floor space and some sat if they were in front.

Keith and Shiro found seats on the risers and people began filling in around them. The ceiling was high and a rack of multicolored lights hung from it, shining white for now. There was a control room in the corner with a glass door, and Keith could see a figure inside with a headset on, blinking lights around them as they technically controlled the theater.

Keith looked around, bright flashes of lights flaring into his eyes, reflecting off the mirrors that were behind the risers on the wall. It only took a few minutes for everyone to come in and sit down, which was surprising because there were so many patrons. Keith guessed they were just excited. He was, at least. After a few more minutes of waiting, the lights dimmed and the talking trailed off, leaving the crowd in whispers as a tall woman in a long skirt and sweater walked to the center of the studio, addressing the audience on all four walls of the room. She held a microphone and her hair was piled so high on top of her head that it added several inches to her height.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" She boomed in a strong voice. Shiro jumped in surprise and Keith snickered, elbowing Shiro lightly in the stomach to stop him from laughing. The two spent the first two minutes of the woman's speech biting their cheeks to hold back laughter. When they finally calmed down, the woman was ending, "So please silence your cell phones, remember to donate, and enjoy the show!" Applause flowed through the studio and the woman left the floor.

The studio went dark once again and whispers broke out. A strange song came out over the speakers and the crowd hushed. Snaps started over the track and for each beat, a spotlight came on over a dancer, revealing them as women, one hand on their hip, the other snapping to the beat. By the time the lyrics started, there were Seven women standing in a 'V'. They moved in sync, wearing shiny black pants and halter tops, flat stomachs glimmering with black glitter. It was a hip-hop dance, but the trendy kind, not the old-school kind.

Keith raised his eyebrows. They were actually pretty hot. If he hadn't been so gay for Lance, he would've thought they were attractively sexy. Keith looked at Shiro, but of course, he was loyal to Allura no matter what, sitting comfortably in his seat, interested but not attracted, paying no mind to the scantily-clad women. The dance ended and there was applause and quite a few whoops.

Next, a duet between a guy and a girl to a song from Hamilton. It was sweet and a ballet number. Keith thought it was adorable, and he forced himself to focus his eyes on the man's face, and not his interesting choice of tights for pants. He knew he would burst out laughing if he did. The dude was actually very good, but not as good as Lance, of course.

The dances went on and Keith found himself actually not bored. He was anxious for Lance to perform even though he knew that his boyfriend's dance was in the second act, but he still managed to enjoy the other dances too. They varied from modern to jazz to ballet to tap to hip-hop, salsas and tangos and attractive men in sequined suits.

Lances words came floating back to Keith, " _It'd be pretty cool if I was known around campus as like, the sewing god. Especially because we have to make our own costumes for the productions in ballet_." Keith smiled to himself. He wondered if Lance had sequin-ified his costume for tonight.

Around the seventh or with dance, Keith's attention was drawn to brown skin contrasted by white hair. Shiro leaned forward. Allura looked... amazing.

Shiro was entranced. Her long white hair had been straightened and it was even longer now, silky and shiny. She wore a white wrap around her chest, tight fabric around her with no straps and a pink skirt, so delicate it looked like flower petals overlapping. She was barefoot.

Her music started and the entire crowd held its breath. Allura was moving like a wave, surging forward and twisting back, just out of reach. Her hair twirled out around her head but it didn't obscure her vision because Keith felt like she could see everything in the studio. The floorboards her feet touched, every face that watched her. She wrapped the room in an aura of presence. Shiro's cheeks were flushed pink in the light as he watched Allura with admiration. Keith rolled his eyes internally; they were perfect for each other. Allura's routine was full of twists and spins on the balls of her feet, changing directions in split seconds. She received a standing ovation when she ended, one leg crossed in front of the other, arms curved up in fifth position.

The lights blacked out and then faded back on, house lights which meant intermission. Chatter filled the studio and people began to stand, stretching and moving to the lobby to donate. Keith, still standing from Allura's ovation, made a mental note to donate later. Shiro stood next to him, arms crossed. Keith noticed the giant bouquet of pink roses underneath Shiro's chair and nudged his friend with his elbow.

"Those for Allura?" Shiro looked down at the roses.

"Yeah," Shiro said dreamily. Keith rolled his eyes.

"Get a grip man. How long have you two been dating? You make it seem like years."

"It feels like lifetimes," Shiro cooed, and he was joking now, grinning his manly ass off.

Keith looked down at his own bouquet for Lance. His jitters for his boyfriend's performance had returned.

...

The intermission was short and soon, employees were ushering patrons back inside the studio, promising that they would be able to donate after the show. Keith was running back from the back room as the employees began closing the doors and he barely made it to his seat before the lights dimmed.

The first dance was classified as 'hiplet', which was a cross between hip-hop and ballet, girls in pointe shoes doing hip hop dance moves and dancing to popular pop music. Keith wasn't sure how he felt about it, but good for them, he knew it must really hurt to be that active on the- as described by Lance- death-trap shoes.

The second dance was an impressive salsa routine with a man in an unbuttoned button-up and a girl in a backless, sequined red dress. Keith's eyes watered as he stared at how fast their feet moved, holy shit it was so cool.

The third... started differently. A large prop was carried onstage by people I black clothing- stagehands, and the object was easily identifiable as a  _door_  on its frame. On top of it was a large platform, perhaps as big as a coffee table, with a rimmed edge. Keith wondered what the weird structure was for.

The lights dimmed down and Keith settled back into his seat, eyes on the door in the middle of the studio floor, fingers laced together, knee jumping slightly. He could almost taste Lance; he knew it was his dance. Who's else could it be? 

A figure walked delicately in front of the door and blue-hued lights came on. Keith's heart jumped.  _Lance._ Lance's outfit didn't look hand-made. It looked dazzling. He wore a one-piece, long-sleeved but with connecting shorts, skin-tight to Lance's thighs. The fabric was mostly dark grey, but a liquidy, smooth color that hugged Lance's small chest that tapered into waist. The hems were yellow-gold, matching the belt above his hips. Starting at his belly button, a large patch of white fabric stretched up his chest, met by a gold line under his collarbone. The fabric then changed to rich teal, starting by his upper biceps and finishing off the neckline as a turtle-neck. 

Lance's footwear were thigh-high white socks with the same teal stripe around the ankles, but, instead of a full foot, simply looped under the arch of Lance's feet so most of his foot was still in contact with the floor. Keith thought this was probably for slip control, he couldn't count on his fingers how many times he had been bopping around in the kitchen and had fallen on the floor from slippery socks. 

His blue lipstick popped on his lips, and luminescent blue boomerang shapes under his eyes, right on his cheekbones, glowed under the lights. Probably the most pleasantly startling thing, though, was his white hair. It was Lance's same haircut, so he'd probably sprayed with hair paint or something. Anyways, it looked awesome. 

The music started and Keith recognized it by its first notes. Lance had played it for Keith the other day as he asked him for his opinion. Keith had said that he had really liked it and Lance had looked relieved. Now Lance was moving, swaying, backing up against the door with his arms across the frame. Modern, his dance said. Keith watched as Lance danced with a close-lipped smile, back-bending and then stretching out, spinning on one foot before sliding down into a split. He was beautiful, truly lost in the ocean of lights around him. He kept coming back to the door, pounding on it silently, sliding against it then backing away. Keith didn't know the concept but, fuck it, it was one of the most gorgeous things he'd ever seen. 

Lance twirled on his toes, arms up at his ears but then on the floor, legs over his body, landing spotlessly before leaping off again, hands over the doorknob then recoiling, music swelling as his raked his hair with his hands, frustrated but hopeless. Lance's hips swayed and he had the music in his chest. Keith felt the beat in his ribcage, even though there wasn't really much of one.

Keith was barely aware of the crowd around him. Lance drew back up to the rimmed platform and pulled himself up smoothly, on top of the door. Keith held his breath as Lance balanced on his hands, legs bent in double-stag. The audience cheered and Lance let himself down, then, as the song came to its close, he stood on the rim of the platform, eyes straight forward. Keith saw his stomach contract, and then he jumped, tucked, and  _flipped off the door_. Keith's heart skipped a beat or maybe it stopped altogether, he couldn't tell. 

But when that beautiful boy landed his flip and pirouetted into the song's stop, the crowd was roaring, just like how they had for Allura. Keith's heart swelled as Lance stood, legs straight together and arms up like a gymnastics star, smile bright white and blue-rimmed. It took nearly all of Keith's energy not to run down and swoop him up in the biggest hug possible, but instead, he put his enthusiasm into his ballistic clapping and whooping and the people around him looking at him strangely, but he didn't care.

_That's my boyfriend down there, that's my Lance. You did amazing, my love, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long! It took me a while to nail what I wanted for the different groups. Sorry that I'm so bad about writing dance scenes, I'm so clumsy, I couldn't dance if my life depended on it. I hope you like the songs I picked, they're actually some of my favorites :) aaaaaanyways, i hope you all have WONDERFUL weeks, and I'll publish again this weekend :) byyyye~


	24. 24-Bubble Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recital after party, voltron Queen practice, raking leaves, and a bubble bath

Keith and Shiro waited for Lance and Allura by the bar. Keith was drinking from a flask that his father had given him for his birthday (it had been in his mailbox at home), silver with constellations etched into it and Shiro had a vodka tonic. Keith didn't know what he'd do when he saw Lance, but he knew that bursting into tears wasn't an option. He was still thinking back to Lance's dance, still amazed.

The dancers started walking into the foyer, less crowded now because a lot of the attendees had left after the recital, and Shiro and Keith sat up straighter, looking for their significant others in the wave of dancers. Keith recognized all of the acts walking by, several of them still wearing their costumes from the last act, which had been amazing. The entire cast had come onstage and done a modern version of the last dance in 'A Chorus Line', complete with dazzling gold short shorts, fishnets, and tiny top hats. The eye-high kicks were Keith's favorite, and Lance even had a solo in the middle, which was pretty cool.

Allura spotted the two first, then dragged Lance over to the bar with her, sporting a black mini-dress and a large floppy witch hat. Her hair was regaining some of its curls as she bounced up to Shiro. Lance, in his fourth outfit of the evening, was wearing his Harley Quinn outfit as promised: a long-sleeved crop top, half black and half red, and then leggings that were the opposite, both with scattered patterns of the suit of diamonds everywhere. Lance's lips were black and his hair was damp, but brown again. Keith assumed that he had washed the paint out of it.

Keith smiled broadly at Lance, pulling him in by his waist. "You were amazing out there. I'm... so impressed." He kissed Lance on the cheek, not wanting to smudge his boyfriend's lipstick.

"Thank you," Lance said happily, hands on Keith's shoulders as he leaned into him, sighing. "I'm pretty tired, but a few shots should fix that. What did you think of my solo?" The couple ignored Shiro and Allura sucking face next to them as Lance hopped into the stool next to Keith's. Keith remembered his bouquet.

"I thought it was incredible. You're really talented, love." Keith pulled out the flowers and handed them to Lance, who buried his nose in the purple petals. He ordered a shot of whiskey for Lance and pushed a $10 on the table for the bartender.

"I'm glad you liked it. The flip was a little scary, so I'm glad I landed it." Keith nodded vigorously. The two chatted together until Shiro and Allura had stopped their make-out session, and then the four talked together with Allura sitting on Shiro's lap, his arms wrapped around her stomach. Shiro went to the snack table, returning with a mountain of sugar-filled sweets and punch, and the group took turns trying weird combinations, including mini hot dogs with frosting, ketchup on cupcakes, and pretzels soaked in punch. It was disgusting but good at the same time, and the drunken DJ cranked the music a little too loud, making the group have to shout at each other to get their words across.

Keith stepped back after his flask was half-way done- Shiro and Allura could take a cab home, but he had to drive Lance on his motorcycle. It was actually pretty funny to see Lance so drunk because he was the giggly kind of drunk, all smiles and kissing Keith on his ears and nose, leaving black smudges everywhere. At one point, Lance challenged Shiro to an arm-wrestling match, and after putting in a half-decent effort, nearly fell off his stool in defeat as Shiro easily pushing his wrist to the bar. Scrambling up to his feet, Lance pressed his palms into Shiro's pectoral's, eyes wide. Keith felt a flare of jealousy flare through his veins and his eye twitched.

"You're ROCK SOLID, Shiro." Lance squeaked, promptly punching Shiro in the stomach. To Keith's shock and immense relief, Shiro didn't even flinch, he just looked down at his stomach, then lifted up his shirt to modestly reveal a toned six-pack. Keith instinctively flexed his own stomach, self-consciously pushing his fingertips into his stomach to feel the hard surface. Allura was looking between him and her boyfriend, a small smile on her lips. Lance was now trying to push Shiro out of his seat, and failing miserably as Shiro just sat there, like a tall, hot rock with a bleached swatch of hair. Curiously out of breath, Lance finally slumped against Shiro, shouting over the music, "Concede defeat, sir! You have been conquered!" Keith broke into laughter as Lance's voice cracked on the 'conquered', and Lance was too drunk to be embarrassed.

The after-party went on for about an hour and a half before people started to leave, and Allura and Shiro walked with Keith and Lance out to the parking lot. It was cold out so Keith gave Lance his hoodie which caused a chorus of "Awww!"'s from Shiro and Allura, their arms around each other for warmth. Keith was lucky that the studio wasn't that far away from his apartment, but he still felt bad that he would have to make Lance cold. He was used to the cold air, but he knew Lance preferred warm weather. 

After arranging plans for the next Voltron practice (three days later), the two couples parted and Keith watched Shiro and Allura walk quickly to Shiro's heated car. He felt bad for Lance, but he hoped to be able to make it up to him the next day with a hot bath or something. Maybe he'd even let Lance paint his nails, a weird dream of his boyfriend's. The two boys hopped on the motorcycle and Keith sped home, one hand on Lance's arms around his stomach to make sure he didn't slip or do anything stupid. Lance was known for doing stupid things, so Keith was very careful now, especially because of the factors a.) Drunk Lance and b.) Exhausted Lance were added in. 

Keith weaved quietly through shortcuts he'd discovered, something he normally wouldn't be able to get away with in the daytime, and they were at the apartment in no time. Keith helped Lance off the motorcycle, getting the flowers (once again) out of the hatch in back, and carried both his boyfriend and the bouquet inside, giving into Lance when he asked for a piggyback ride up the stairs. Keith's legs shook two flights in, but he was determined to get to the top, even if it meant he'd be sore the next day. Lance was warm on his back, as usual, and his breath on his neck tickled. Keith finally reached his apartment, and he let Lance down to unlock his door. 

"Where are my-" Keith dug into his pockets, but the only things that met his fingers were gum wrappers and a tube of chapstick. Keith almost had a mini heart attack before Lance suddenly stepped in front of him, dangling his keys in front of his face, and Keith remembered that he had given Lance his hoodie, which, surprise, surprise, had his keys in it. Lance laughed, high and breathy, before insisting that he unlock the door, which took several minutes with his clumsy hands, but Keith wasn't going to rush him. It was a relatively reasonable time (almost midnight), but Keith only had one class the next day, Wednesday, and it was in the afternoon so he and Lance would be able to sleep in because Lance didn't have classes in general since it was the day after the recital and the studio knew that the dancers needed rest. Keith thought that was considerate. 

The two walked into Keith's apartment (or, more of, Keith walked and Lance stumbled), and Keith gently helped Lance out of his clothes, wiping his makeup off with a wet dishcloth, then kissed him on the cheek and tucked him into bed, feeling embarrassingly like a mom, before taking care of himself. It took a good amount of time to scrub off all of his face paint, and Keith's face was beet red by the time he finished. He shrugged off his costume, letting it fall to the bathroom floor, then walked to his bedroom, sighing as he slipped into bed. Lance was immediately on top of him, warmer than the blankets themselves, arms over Keith's chest, just like how they had slept back at Keith's house. 

Keith wondered if they would be sleeping like this all the time now. He wasn't complaining- Lance's bare chest felt smooth and satiny and his stomach rose and fell against Keith's in a weirdly calming way. Keith traced over Lance's back with his hands, and he felt the birthmarks and ripples of muscles. Keith closed his eyes and held his breath, just listening. The sound of Lance's breathing... that was probably the most relaxing, relieving sound in the world. 

Keith curled his arms around Lance tighter. He never wanted anything bad to happen to him, and right there, as the moon was in the top of the sky, shining over the apartment complex and Keith's shabby sheets, with Lance's caramel brown skin against Keith's pale complexion, Keith promised that he'd do all he could to keep Lance happy and safe. He wanted to stay with this boy. He wanted Lance to stay with him too. 

Sighing into the curve of Lance's neck Keith felt sleep drift over him, and his mind eventually gave in. 

...

"WEEE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIEEEND, AND WEEE'LL KEEP ON FIGHTING, 'TIL THE END," Keith scream-sang into the microphone, and then Shiro joined in, smashing his drums with gusto. 

"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, NO TIME FOR LOSERS, 'CUZ WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS... OF THE WOOORLD." Shiro finished with an intensely loud drum roll before ending with a crash of the symbol. Pidge whooped loudly and Hunk nodded enthusiastically. Shiro wiped some sweat from his forehead.

"Queen is freaking awesome to play," Hunk admitted, having previously been otherwise opinionated. 

"Of course it is!" Keith yelled, breathing heavily. His fingers ached but now, after not playing for a solid week and a half, he was eager to keep on practice. 

"Guys, we're gonna crash Battle of the Bands,"  Hunk said confidently, setting his bass down. 

Shiro nodded, "Hell yeah, we are. But let's talk about how we're actually gonna crash it." He stood up from his drum set and stretched. "Hunk, you've booked our spot, right?"

Hunk flashed thumbs-up, "We're playing second-to-last." 

"Good, good," Shiro mused. "And we're taking your van to get there. We have..." he hesitated and counted on his fingers, then rolled his eyes, "Not a lot of time to get everything nailed. You're all off work the weekend we're going, right?" The group nodded. Shiro suddenly looked back at his drumset and frowned. "Don't we need 'Voltron' on the bass drum?" he asked.

"On it," Hunk said, running upstairs for what Keith assumed paint or markers or something artsy and crafty. Pidge flopped onto the couch. 

"We knew what song we're doing, right? We decided?" Keith nodded.

"I hope I can pull it off," Keith said, sighing as he looked down at his guitar. Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. 

"You'll be fine," Shiro assured him, smiling comfortingly. 

"Thanks, man."

...

When Keith came home from practice, Lance was raking the lawn in front of their apartment. Keith stepped off his motorcycle, smiling at Lance, puzzled. "What are you doing?" He asked his boyfriend, curious. 

"I'm raking, what does it look like I'm doing, genius," Lance said playfully, looking proudly at his pile of leaves. 

Keith took the rake and kissed Lance's chin, "That's cute, babe." And so they ended up raking the entire front lawn of Keith's apartment building, but only to the promise of being able to jump in when they finished. It wasn't a very big pile, but Lance dove in anyway, followed by Keith, both laughing hysterically as leaves crunched up into their clothes and under their shirts. In the midst of autumn, they kissed each other hard and fierce before breaking up into laughter again, shoving leaves into the air like little kids. 

When they finally crawled out of the leaves, they were covered in dirt and debris, which only made them laugh harder as they shoved each other up the stairs. At the top, Keith looked at Lance. 

"How 'bout a bath?" Lance blinked. 

"Like, together?" he asked, picking a leaf out of Keith's hair. 

Keith bobbled his head, embarrassed, and he knew his entire face was red. Whatever. 

Lance nodded shyly, then pushed Keith into the apartment.

...

Instead of leaves, Keith and Lance now settled in bubbles. Facing each other in the claw-foot bathtub in Keith's bathroom, Keith leaned his head back against the curve of the tub, soaking in the warmth of the tub. 

"I can't remember the last time I took a bath," Lance said quietly, scooping up a mountain of bubbles in his palms. Keith peeked at him with one eye, then slid down further in the tub. He felt Lance's legs against his own and blushed. He hoped the bubbles hid his burning cheeks. 

The entire bathroom smelled like rose petals, thanks to the bubble-bath solution Keith always had on hand. Lance had dunked his head under and now his hair was slicked back in a carelessly attractive way. Keith wondered how he had landed with someone so amazing. Lance leaned over and placed the bubble mountain on Keith's hair and grinned, shaping it with his hands. 

"You're George Washington," Lance giggled, and Keith rolled his eyes, then stuck some bubbles to Lance's chin.

"And you're Santa." Lance slid forward and settled on top of Keith's chest. His skin was even warmer in the steaming bath, even if it was a lot more slippery. 

The two dozed in the tub until the water was cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I’m so sorry this took so long! I’ve been incredibly busy the past two days, so I apologize on my part. Thank you for being patient, I hope you enjoyed it!


	25. 25-Battle of the Bands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its time for battle of the bands~ makeup, klance, and LOTOR!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dQ1xiy-4hY 
> 
> :)

_Time skip_  
...  
"Be CAREFUL with that," Pidge wailed at the stagehands as they unloaded his synth from the back of Hunk's van. They were parked behind the brick theater, obscured from attendees who were already lining the entrance of the building two hours before the show started. Apparently, the pit was 'first come, first serve', so people camped out by the empty stage to guarantee front row spots. Keith wondered if the crowd would like Voltron. He hoped so, especially with the risk they were taking with their last song. They had three songs prepared in their set time of 12 minutes, so they had trimmed each down to four minutes max. Pidge has guaranteed them the last spot, the last band to play, which was actually pretty exciting.

Lance and Allura were with them, staging as 'groupies' but they'd sneak down into the pit when Voltron played to watch them perform instead of waiting backstage. Pidge's brother, Matt, was also present, and, with his tech-genius-like brain similar to Pidge's, he'd be manning the lights and sound for Voltron. Matt was grungy in a chill way with long-ish brown hair and eyes like Pidge's. He and Shiro got along well; they had been friends in high school. Keith kind of got the vibe that Matt  _liked_  Shiro, but that idea was disproven when Matt immediately started flirting with Allura. Keith shook his head in skeptical amusement as Shiro playfully threatened to lacerate Matt's genitalia if he made another pass at Allura. Five minutes later, they were laughing and joking like nothing had happened.

Shiro hopped down from the trunk of the van, holding a bundle of wires. "These are the last of them, Hunk!" He called, then shut the trunk door and Hunk, driving the van, moseyed into the parking lot. Voltron (and guests) headed into the theater through the back door. Immediately, they were swept into a whirl of people.

"2 hours to show!" Someone shouted as the group followed the stagehands deeper into the cave of the backstage. It was dark, but black lights and desk lamps shone on the walls. Keith noticed a few bare lightbulbs dangling high above them, hanging from single wires as they shone yellow-tinged light down. They passed a heavy metal band and Keith gulped. The bassist looked like he could break Shiro in half without flinching, and the dense black tattoos and spiked Mohawk hair didn't help. Shiro, however, looked confident. He wore a sensible t-shirt and jeans, but his eyes were sharp, alert. Keith stepped closer to Lance when a group of giggling girls passed, blowing kisses at Voltron. Lance winked at them, but then held up Keith and his hands, intertwined, and mock-pouted.  _Sorry babes, taken._ Keith wanted to roll his eyes.

All around them, groups huddled. Keith recognized some of their styles as emo, punk, but most were modern, bo-ho styles that Keith could only assume belonged to indie bands. Voltron wasn't indie. It seemed like everyone was doing something, everyone was busy. Keith spotted a group of people working together to restring their guitars, and it was obvious from their clothes- there was a large man in a leather jacket and spiked collar, a girl in a long flannel cardigan and thigh-high black combat boots, and another girl, younger, in a pastel dress with a giant flower crown woven into her hair- that they were from different bands. Keith liked that about music. It kind of didn't matter how fucked up or weird you were, if you had a broken string, someone would be there with wire cutters and a tuner.

There was a set of double-doors straight ahead that said 'LOBBY' several feet away from another set that was labeled 'INSTRUMENTS'. Keith watched anxiously as the stagehands bumped their way into the latter door. "Let's see... Voltron... ah, dressing room #9. Downstairs, fifth door on the left," the director said to Shiro, then left them at a sloping staircase. They descended, single-file, down the stairs.

The dressing room hallway was long and narrow, crowded too with doors on both sides opening into small rooms with people sitting at counters, people huddled around them with curling irons and make-up brushes. Keith held Lance's hand as he led him down the hallway, squeezing by the performers who blocked the hall. On the fifth door down, closed, was a piece of paper held by black duct tape with 'Voltron' scrawled in slanted Sharpie handwriting. Shiro was the first to enter, followed by Allura, then Keith and Lance, connected by hands, and the Holt brothers. Hunk would be down soon from the parking lot.

The room was shaped in an 'L' with two sides lined in counter-space, several black fold-up chairs stationed in front of him. Keith nodded in satisfaction, flicking on the secondary lights that bordered the rim of the long mirror set above the counter. Shiro plopped down in a chair and Allura put her giant, pink duffle bag full of their 'costumes', makeup, and several bottles of hair gel. Keith sat in the chair next to Shiro and Lance draped his arms over the florist's shoulders, kissing his cheek. Keith sighed. His nerves were starting up; his palms were getting sweaty.

Shiro looked calm though, he was fine under pressure, the result of his entire high school career being a barista at Starbucks. Matt let out a low whistle, then grinned at Pidge, "My little bro, in the big leagues." Pidge smiled like sunshine.

"Alright, we're doing a run-through in an hour, so let's get started. Lance, Allura, work your magic."

...

Lance was a force of nature as he shoved Keith into the tiny bathroom to change, over and over, throwing him a different shirt or a new pair of pants when Keith stepped out for approval. Sometimes, Lance followed Keith into the bathroom and kissed him against the sink, drenching the back of Keith's shirt when his hand slipped and he accidentally turned on the faucet. They had giggled like elementary school students and Lance had bit his lip in the hottest way possible before telling Keith to get changed.

Keith stepped out the final time, slightly exasperated, but Lance's expression was satisfied. "Shiro!" Lance called, and Shiro looked over at Keith, only one eye flanked with heavy eyeliner. "What do you think?" Lance grabbed Keith by the waist and slowly turned him around, looking for Shiro's opinion.

"You look hot, bro!" Shiro said loudly, and Keith laughed, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked punk, charcoal-colored skinny jeans that had rips all the way up his thighs. He was wearing Lance's briefs so his boxers didn't show through the rips. Hooked to the hem of his jeans were suspenders, black too and dangling down his thighs. His tank top was white, with a comically bright (but slightly-washed out) rainbow on the front. It was cut off at the bottom, and his stomach, pale but toned, showed through. He wore his red converse untied.

"Make-up time!" Lance pushed Keith to an open fold-out chair, seating him in it. Keith was amazed by how knowledgeable Lance was with cosmetics. He didn't know half of the products that were going on his face, there were at least a dozen and yet, albeit, when Keith peeked in the mirror, he looked hot as fuck, but everything was so well-blended, it looked natural. Lance swooped in close to Keith's face, lips only inches apart, and waved his eyeliner pen. "Stay still or it won't come out sharp enough," Lance instructed and promptly straddled Keith to get a better vantage point. Keith felt his stomach tighten as Lance leaned in  _so_  close to him and he wanted to kiss him, but that opportunity had ended as soon as Lance had done his lipstick, which was black.

"So fucking cute," Pidge said to the couple as he walked past, snickering to himself. Lance shifted as he moved to Keith's other eye.

"I spent so long on your eyeshadow, so I better not mess this up," he mumbled to himself, and Keith bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too big.

...

They were badass when they walked out backstage. Brighter lights were on now and their features were better illuminated. Everyone except Matt had changed. Shiro was in a tight black v-neck t-shirt, his muscles highlighted by Allura's flawless contouring powers. Pidge was in loose camo pants and a green t-shirt with an alien face on it. Hunk was in a muscle tank and he wore a bandana knotted over his forehead. Allura sported leggings with mesh stripes over her thighs, a white shirt knotted at her stomach, and a denim jacket thrown over it.

Keith couldn't keep his eyes off Lance, though, goddamn. Galaxy leggings with olive green shorts over them, a black tank top tucked in, and a (fake) letterman jacket that was blue with white sleeves. He was wearing that same blue lipstick, and Keith liked it, even more, close up.

They had retrieved their instruments for the run-through before the show, except for Shiro's drumset, and Keith felt a little less nervous with his guitar slung around him. They wouldn't be playing anything, just checking to make sure everything would go smoothly with transitions.

Keith watched the other bands around them with interest, picking out their styles. He decided he should probably slow down on how fast he was judging them, but he couldn't help it. Voltron had been wanting this for a while, and now here it was. It seemed a bit surreal to be here now, with the judges already sitting down at their table in the audience.  _Judges_. Keith felt his heart jump. They were going to be  _judged_. He shook his head, clearing it from doubt, and turned to his group. Shiro was standing, arms crossed, talking quietly with Allura, a small smile on his lips. His eyeliner was over the top in a good way. Keith felt Lance beside him and turned to his boyfriend.

"I have confidence, Keith, that you're gonna do amazing out there. I've never heard you guys play, but I'm sure you'll be great." It was a little early for a pep-talk, but Keith appreciated it anyways.

"Thanks, babe. I hope we don't mess up." Lance leaned into Keith's shoulder and the director was walking around, checking in with bands. He would approach Shiro soon, the leader.

"I'm sure you won't," Lance reassured his boyfriend, rubbing his back. Keith couldn't kiss him and that was frustrating, but he was too nervous anyway.

Suddenly, a tall, elegant man stepped forward, flanked by four women, and he smiled down at Lance with sharp eyes and a strong, jutting chin.

"Hello, Voltron." His voice was smooth and silky, just like his weird-ass hair, which was long, straight, and  _white_. Keith glanced at Allura, who had similar hair. Hers was better. Keith didn't like this guy already."I'm Lotor. This is my band, The Galra." He gestured to his shirt, which was a long sleeved dark purple, the sleeves rolled up, with a big 'G' on it with a slash across it. His jeans were tight and black and he was wearing makeup- thick eyeliner and purple shadow. Keith had to begrudgingly admit, he pulled it off well.

Lotor leaned forward and traced over Lance's jaw _,_ pressing his index finger to Lance's chin before flicking up.

"We've come to crush you, cutie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys :) i want to apologize for updating so late, ive been really really busy this week and ive been trying to stay on top of things here too :) beat drop is on its way to the end! im guessing only two or three more chapters, so thank you for sticking with me for so long, i love you guys!


	26. 26-Slow-Mo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltrons performance!

The crowd was deafening. Keith didn't know how so many people could fit in such a small place, and they were jumping too, along with Lotor, who was onstage, vocals ripping through the venue. His voice was low and smooth, and they were singing original songs. His four other band members, all women, played the instruments, shredding the guitars as Lotor sauntered down the stage, wooing the crowd. Keith gulped. Was he supposed to do that? His mind went blank when he thought about being as brave and outgoing as Lotor.

The man had flirted with Lance backstage for a while, backing off jokingly when Lance suddenly grabbed an insanely jealous Keith by the front of his shirt, kissed him roughly, then quirked an eyebrow at Lotor, saying, "My babe's gonna crush your band, honey." Lotor had swept his hair up into a ponytail and, quite literally, swaggered away, band mates in tow. Lance had then rushed Keith back downstairs to fix their lipstick.

He had tried to pump Keith up, but failed: "I say 'Vol', you say 'tron'- VOL-," Lance said expectantly, but Keith's face was blank.

"Vol... tron?" He tried, confused. Lance let out a frustrated sigh.

"No, no, the instructions are in the beginning, 'I say 'vol', you say...?"

Keith shook his head, bewildered, "Voltron?" Lance had looked like he had wanted to bash his head against a wall. Keith had no idea what was going on.

Anyways, The Galra were good. They had a lot of 'oomph' and the crowd loved Lotor. They were also second to last on the list, so Voltron was playing next. The band stood backstage, and Keith's fingers twitched over the strings of his guitar, not touching but still practicing. He was sweating; it was hot. Lance and Allura were already down in the pit, but Keith couldn't see them from here, though he did have a good vantage point of the entire right side of the crowd. From what Keith could see, most of the patrons were his age and older, expanding into late thirties.

Before Keith knew it, The Galra were finishing their last song and Lotor was yelling, "Thank you, guys! We're The Galra, make sure to come to the lobby after for autographs!" The crowd cheered for Lotor and his band as they left the stage and stagehands rushed on to start setting up for Voltron. As Lotor came backstage, he leaned down and whispered in an intentionally sexy voice, "Your boyfriend was cheering for me." Keith wanted to punch him.

"Okay, men, we're on in five minutes after the sound check," Hunk said aloud to Voltron as he handed his bass to a stagehand to be hooked up to the sound system, "We're going to go out there and- and- try our best, no matter what happens, and crush all these other bands." Hunk's voice was shaky from nerves so Keith took over.

"Just... remember your chords, your rhythm, our harmonies. Work the crowd, especially you Pidge, your up front so put a smile on a couple times," Pidge grinned at him toothily, then scoffed, flicking his hair out of his face.

"We'll be fine," he supplied, then turned to Shiro, glasses glinting in the backstage lights. "Any words of wisdom, Grandpa?"

Shiro laughed, totally relaxed. Out of all of the band members, he seemed the most at ease in the environment. "Let's just be the band we are. We're the same Voltron we were in High School, even though Keith isn't smoking pot anymore and Pidge has good grades now." The group laughed, and Shiro sighed, looking up at the ceiling, looking like he was about to say something, but then smiled as if brushing it away.

"Voltron, on stage!" a stagehand said urgently and the four guys walked onstage, met by the booming crowd. Keith looked around, and quickly pasted a grin on his lips, his nerves twitching.

Shiro quickly jumped onto the raised platform where his red drum set sat gloriously, "VOLTRON" pasted in big, colorful letters on the bass drum. Hunk and Keith grabbed their guitars and strummed a few notes, looking back to Matt, who gave a thumbs-up, his headphones on. Keith walked up mock-confidently to the main microphone and looked back at Hunk as he took his place on Keith's right, Pidge on his giant synth on his left. Keith gripped the microphone and the crowd settled down, hushed whispers scattering through their sweaty forms.

"Hey, guys," Keith said in a low voice. The stage lights above him were hot, and he already felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck. A few whoops escaped the crowd, and Keith regarded their direction with a grin. "We're your last band for the night, we're Voltron. Enjoy!" Keith turned to Shiro, who nodded.

"1, 2, 3, 4."

 

Hunk started with the acoustic guitar, but Keith knew he'd move to the bass once the drums kicked in. In a few seconds, Shiro smashed in and the lights came on, flashing and careening streams around the stage. The crowd started cheering: they knew this song.

After the intro, Keith lost himself in the music and started singing the first verse. He was terrified, but the drums behind him and his guitar in his hands, along with the screaming crowd, powered him on. He held the microphone with both hands, then dropped them to crank out the chords on his guitar. Everything felt good as they rocked through the bridge into the chorus.

Keith didn't even know what he was doing anymore as he jumped to the beat, mega-watt grin plastered over his face. He'd played this song so many times, he didn't even have to think about the positioning of his hands, the melody that flew from his lips. Everything was familiar, they were just in a different location. With people cheering them on.

As they came to the second chorus, Keith could hear Pidge singing harmony, and he felt even more confident. The lights above them flashed, and Keith felt at home. Voltron's first concert, and it was in front of hundreds of people. He was so proud.

When they finished the second chorus, Keith looked out to the crowd. He was confident that they knew this part. The band lowered their volume and Keith raised his arms up, starting the chant, "Jaded, what are you thinkin', faded, all the time."

Their eyes were bright with alcohol as they joined in, Keith swooping down to touch their reaching hands. As they finished the chant, Keith grabbed the microphone, singing the final bridge, then winked. The final chorus was powerful and loud, just like they wanted. Matt had worked wonders with the sound system.

The final chord rang out, and the crowd's cheer washed over Voltron like a tsunami. Keith grinned out at the crowd, and grabbed his water bottle from the spot by his amp. Now that his adrenaline was settling down from the intense high, his nerves were coming back. But he couldn't stop now. That was only their first song, they had two more to sing, two more to impress with.

"Hey, beautiful people," he said into the mic, and the crowd whooped. "So for those of you who don't know, that was 'Jaded' by One Okay Rock," Loyal cheers for the band erupted from the crowd. "Yeah, they're pretty sick. The next song we're playing is an original called 'Cheap Mess'."

The original went well. The crowd seemed to like it, which was good, and Shiro ended up tearing off his shirt at one point, which was interesting. The crowd loved it.

And then it was time for the last song, the risk song. Voltron gathered to meet up before the last set. "Keith, this is all on you, man. Remember, slow, sexy, and smooth. That's what this whole song is about. Pidge, really make the strings sound impressive, I want big! And the brass, I want that to sound convincing. Hunk, rock that bass, you've got it." Shiro's pep talk was strict, but this was their most shaky song, in terms of the audience reaction.

Keith nodded, determined, and pulled on his suspenders. The group dispersed to their individual instruments and Keith stepped up to the mic. The lights dimmed, a single spotlight on Keith, and he started with his head down.

 

"Birds flying high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel. Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life... for me..."

Keith looked up at the audience.

"And I'm feelin' good."

The drums started up, and Pidge on the synth made the blasting trumpets convincing, just as Shiro wanted. Keith's face was relaxed into a smirk, and the crowd, which was silent at first, was now clapping along to the beat. They didn't cheer, but Keith took that as a good thing. He hoped that meant it was good.

As Keith started on the second verse, he started to sway a little, dragging his hand through his hair. When there was a pause in the words, he looked up to the crowd and bit his lip seductively. Take that, Lance. This is payback from that fucking nightclub. Several someones whistled.

Keith was losing himself again, relaxed and calm. He felt powerful as he sang the jazz, and he even took it as far as to slide his palms from his chest down to his thighs as he swayed back and forth. More hoots and whistles. Keith smirked. Work the crowd, Shiro had said.

An instrumental break. An opportunity. Keith took the microphone from its stand and walked down the stage with it, to the beat. He swayed his hips, blew kisses, and slid back to center stage when it was time to sing again.

The verse was lifted up a few notes, and so now Keith had to sing higher, and he unintentionally raised the microphone up, closing his eyes, when he hit the high notes.

And everything was slowing down. Keith felt the bass drum in his heart, and, in a pause, he looked out at the crowd, and he felt such relief, relief that they liked it, that they supported Voltron. And in the slow motion sludge, Keith was happier than he'd been in weeks.

As the song song ended, Keith belted out the words with everything he had, every cell in his body was hurling him into the words. The crowd was wild as Keith ended the song with a high note, unlike the classic low one that Michael Buble hit. That got everyone's applause going as Voltron ended.

"We're Voltron! Thank you!" Was it just Keith, or were they cheering louder than they had for The Galra?

...

"Guests, please settle down, its awards time!" All 16 bands were squished together on the stage, after the incredible 4 hours of straight music. The crowd was drunk enough not to be tired. "We're gonna keep this quick! We know it's late," the announcer said. He said was standing on the stage, a few meters away from the bands, in front of a table that had three trophies on it, each bigger than the other. Keith looked at the trophies, coveting them.

"So, you all did amazing, the judges were very impressed, but they had to decide on three of you to take the top spots. In third place... The Galra!" Keith blinked. What? Lotor stood and elegantly crossed to the table, waving to the audience with a platinum smile. Keith looked at his band, who were we'll as baffled as he was.

"Second place... Voltron!" Keith jumped up, ecstatic, and jogged over to the table, swooning over the second place trophy. It was huge. Not as big as first place, but big enough. Keith felt like crying from joy.

Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge were already standing when Keith got back to them, reaching out with eager hands to feel their trophy. "Holy shit, we won!" Keith yelled, and the audience laughed, clapping for them. Keith turned to the audience, blew a kiss, and then sat down with his band, admiring their trophy. Second place, man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long~Thank you so incredibly much for 9k, it was only 3 chapters ago that I was at 5k, I don't deserve you amazing people. Much love ❤️ happy holidays!


	27. 27-Absurdity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunkenness and Thanksgiving Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :) hope you like

“Se-cond-PLACE! Se-cond-PLACE!" Hunk chanted in the bar, boosting their trophy up. Shots were lined up, and Keith had a beer in his hand. Lance sat next to him, his hand on Keith's thigh, with Pidge on Keith's other side. Allura and Shiro sat next to Pidge, and Hunk wasn't even sitting yet, just showing off the trophy. Keith was pretty sure that they had been more excited than the band that won first place.

Allura and Lance looked flawless, as usual, adorned with makeup that they'd kept on. When Lance had met Keith backstage, they had collided in a kiss, Lance's needy (and already a bit drunk) hands were through Keith's hair, and he murmured, "In the crowd... everyone wants to fuck my boyfriend now..."

Now they were celebrating, drinks in hand. Keith felt tipsy with excitement and alcohol, and the live band that played was loud and good. Voltron had entered the first band they could find, which was called 'The Barrel' and it had large, antique beer barrels stacked by the stage and bar.

Half an hour later, Lance and Keith were in front of the stage, swaying together to the music, Keith's arms around Lance's shoulders, and Lance's hands on Keith's waist. The bar felt warm and Keith's lips brushed his boyfriend's ear as he whispered drunk sentiments of phrases (that could be sexy when said soberly) to Lance.

They both laughed at Keith's pathetic attempts, and when the band ended their set, Lance went back to the bar to get another drink and Keith stayed to try to act sober in front of the band, asking them questions about their music and casually slipping in that Voltron had just won Battle of the Bands. To Keith's satisfaction, they bought Voltron another round and Keith ended up talking with the bassist for 20 minutes while Lance talked with Pidge and Hunk. But, like magnets, the two boyfriends connected again, unable to separate for too long.

(A/N: this part is from a cute comic that I saw on Instagram by bruhderp on tumblr :))

Keith slid next to Lance, crouching by Lance's stool at the bar. He looked around nervously. "Pst, Lance," he stage whispered, even though Lance had already seen him and was looking at him with a mildly confused expression.

"Hey Keith," Lance said, tapping his fingers on his martini.

"Hihihi," Keith greeted, "I love you." He grinned up at Lance, watching his boyfriend blush childishly, slapping his palms to his cheeks happily. Keith giggled.

"Shaddup," Lance slurred, cheeks red as he felt his heart thump thump thump in his chest. He pressed a hand just below his clavicle, willing his palm to quiet his heart. He heard it in his ears as Keith continued.

"IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou," Keith crooned to Lance, who was slightly bewildered. He fanned his burning cheeks.

"KEITH!" Shiro suddenly came out of the bathroom, searching the bar. He spotted Keith by the stools and started walking over. "Lance, hold him down, he's waaay too drunk."

Keith looked annoyed as he glanced at Shiro, "Gotta dash, babe, Takashit is here." Lance erupted in giggles.

"Keith wha- Takashit pffffft." His lips felt rubbery from smiling so much. Keith stuck out his butt and flipped Shiro off over his shoulder. Shiro emitted an enraged groan that sounded frighteningly like the neigh of a horse.

"Lance, I swear to God, hold him!"

"But first..." Keith said, then sprung up from his crouch and placed a sloppy kiss (nearly) on Lance's lips. It was more on his chin, but Lance didn't care. Keith resumed his squat once again as Lance covered his face, grinning.

"Oh my god, just why?!" Shiro yelled loudly. He dove towards Keith, shouting in a high-pitched voice, "WASSUP MOTHERFU-". Keith and Shiro landed in a pile on the floor. Keith groaned in defeat. Lance was still giggling childishly.

Shiro, the most sober one (but not by much), looked up at Lance, skeptical. "Lance, you stupid, love-sick fool."

...

"Who the fuck makes Thanksgiving cookies? Holiday cookies are reserved for Christmas!" Keith said loudly, watching Lance in disbelief.

"Christmas cookies are overrated. I love Christmas, but it's meant for Yule Log Cakes and gingerbread cookies, not sugar cookies. And I even brought my own cookie cutters from my mom. Look at these cute sprinkles!" Lance shook the orange glitter containers like maracas. He was measuring out flour into a bowl, without even a recipe.

It was a few weeks after Battle of the Bands, and Thanksgiving was only a few days away. Keith and Lance were planning on spending it with Acxa and Nate- they were leaving the next day.

Keith came around the counter and watched Lance mix ingredients that he'd found in Keith's cabinets, half of which were unopened, gifts from Hunk that Keith never had uses for. He didn't cook, let alone back. He was the king of microwave dinners, the emperor of the "Frozen Entrée" aisle, the ruler of take-out. Cooking was for people who actually had some semblance of a social life, a moderate sense of decency, good metabolism, and way too much time on their hands.

Keith hopped up onto the counter by Lance's mixing bowl and watched his boyfriend mix all the ingredients together, remembering the recipe like a champ. "Put on some music," Lance requested, stirring everything together. Keith played him 'Lucky' by Jason Mraz on his old ukulele instead. Lance blushed as he rolled out the dough on the floured counter.

"You can help me with this part," Lance said matter-of-factly, lifting Keith by his hips off the counter. He kissed Keith's neck while he pressed a metal cookie cutter the shape of a maple leaf into his clammy hand. Keith shakily hung to the counter, face red. He'd need concealer to hide that.

The two stood shoulder-to-shoulder over the giant spread of cookie dough, punching out little cookies in the shapes of leaves and pumpkins and turkeys and cornucopias. They were transferred with Lance's delicate hands onto parchment paper covered cookie sheets, close together. When they were all out of dough, Lance shoved the sheets into the oven and set the timer, then pushed Keith up against the counter and breathed over his lips. Keith was waiting for the kiss when he suddenly felt a strange sprinkling of something odd fall over his face. He opened his eyes, and Lance was smiling devilishly. He revealed his hand, which was covered in white, powdery flour. Keith gaped at him, and brushed the substance out of his eyelashes.

"Lance, you little shit-"

"Food fight!" Lance grinned at Keith as he threw a fistful of orange sprinkles at him.

Keith grabbed the egg carton, smirking, "You picked it with the wrong guy, Lance. I'm a food fighting champion!" He took an egg out and threw it hard at Lance, watching in satisfaction as it cracked over Lance's chest.

Lance made a disgusted noise as he grabbed an apple from the sparse food basket and chucked it at Keith, but missed as Keith ducked and then watching as the apple thonked off the wooden cabinet behind him.

Keith had the carton of milk ready, and splashed it over Lance while laughing maniacally. Lance wiped the dairy out of his eyes and reached inside the fridge for his mystery ammo. Keith only figured out what it was when he saw the red chunks sliding down his shirt. Salsa.

"Fight like a Cuban, baby!" Lance said, wiggling his hips. Keith huffed, wiping the sauce off his chest. He took another egg and started to storm towards Lance, but slipped in the spilled milk and landed on his butt.

"Owww," he groaned, but Lance was immediately over him, smirking as he pushed Keith down, one fist raised in the air.

"Victory!" Lance crowed. Keith whipped his hand up, egg still intact, and crushed it against Lance's cheek. His boyfriend looked down at him in shock as Keith shook with uncontrolled laughed. "You're such an ass!" Lance groaned, but he was smiling too, as he wiped the yolk off his cheek.

...

"Keith, you can't just do that." Keith crossed his arms over his bare chest. They had cleaned up the kitchen together, and then taken turns showering. Keith stood in the doorway of his room, just a towel around his waist, smirking at Lance as his boyfriend stared at him, towel over his damp hair. "You can't just be that hot."

Keith blew Lance a kiss, then rummaged through his dresser for his onesie. Lance watched helplessly as Keith walked out to change in the bathroom, taking his sculpted chest and perfect ass with him. Lance flopped onto Keith's bed, groaning.

...

Counting the syllables on his fingers, Lance started:

"You are a nice boy  
My mother likes you a lot  
That onesie is cute."

Keith grinned, rolling his eyes. "My turn."

"Lance you are a spaz  
You have a bear named Sir Dab  
Your eyes are so blue."

"SIR DAB!"

The two were laying on the living room floor next to each other, making bad haikus about each other. The cookies, which were done, lay out on the counter, frosted with sprinkles on them. The whole frosting ordeal took longer than it should've because Keith insisted on making every cookie look perfect.

"I love Sir Dab," Lance said, rolling over to his side, looking over Keith.

"I hate Sir Dab. I was so nervous on that date, I thought I was gonna crap myself. And then, you, Mister Lance, nearly made me barf after that awful ride."

"I LOVE THE ZIPPER!" Lance said happily, "and you were so cute on that date. Remember when you drove me home afterwords? You were so handsome," Lance crooned, pouting his lips at Keith.

Keith rubbed his eyes, embarrassed. "I think I got 3 hours of sleep that night. I was delirious for letting you drag me on that thing. I was basically intoxicated. Can I sue you for that?" Lance laughed, then sat up, pulling Keith up with him as he stood.

Lance pulled his boyfriend into his chest, breathing in his shampoo, burying his nose into the hood of Keith's red cat onesie. As Keith looked over Lance's shoulder, he suddenly noticed smoke coming from the oven, and a shock of panic zipped through his veins. "Lance... did we leave a batch of cookies in the oven?" Lance froze, arms stiff around Keith's waist.

"Oh shit." Keith sprinted to the kitchen, Lance behind him, and yanked open the oven, immediately releasing a plume of smoke. Keith stumbled back, coughing hard.

"Omigod KEITH! Are you okay?! I'll turn off the oven, turn on the fan!" Keith squinted and slapped the switch on the wall to turn on the overhead fan, which groaned into motion.

The fire alarm started blaring and Lance let out a battle cry as he picked up one of the brooms from cleaning the kitchen earlier and whacked the alarm off the ceiling. Keith rushed to the balcony and threw open the doors, letting in a blast of cold air. The room was quickly filling up with smoke so Keith then ran to his bedroom and shut the door, then the door to the bathroom so the smoke would say contained.

Lance was holding two magazines in his hands, fanning them wildly to try to get rid of the smoke, but his eyes were watering so he really couldn't see what he was doing.

"Lance," Keith wheezed, tugging on Lance's arm, "We gotta go outside." Lance didn't argue as the two of them ran out of the apartment, closing the door quickly behind them. Collapsing against the wall, Keith sighed, laughing a little.

"We're so stupid."


	28. 28-Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and acxa, acxa and keith, son and mum

"Hi, sweety!" Keith's heart lurched.

The hospital room was smaller than as-seen-on-TV but just as bright white. The whole room smelled sterile, looked it too- the spotless sink next to the bathroom, the linoleum tile floors, the sheets that covered Acxa. The day before, while Keith and Lance were on the plane to Texas, Acxa had collapsed from fatigue and malnourishment. Nate had had no idea, he thought Acxa had been eating well, but it was not so, as Acxa had lost 20 pounds over the course of her diagnosis. Nate was beside himself with worry and had decided that Acxa should stay in the hospital for now until her health balanced. The family knew that the chances of Acxa's health improving were beyond slim, but no one said anything.

Keith and Lance had arrived the night before, and Nate had met them at the house. After explaining, they had stayed at the house for the night but left for the hospital early the next morning as soon as visiting hours were open. Lance had been so understanding the whole time, it kind of felt like he was Acxa's son too, he was part of the family. Keith gripped his hand tightly as they walked into the hospital room behind Nate. Keith's father first kissed Acxa on the forehead, the gestured to the three chairs that were already set up beside Acxa's bed.

Keith's mom was sitting up in bed, and Keith's face crumpled when he saw her. If it had been bad before... this was so much worse. It wasn't even one specific thing, she just didn't  _look_ right. Besides her arms, which were thin and delicate, her face was strained and tight, and her smile didn't reach her eyes. Keith wondered how much his heart could ache. 

"Hi, Mom," Keith mumbled, and sat down in the chair next to his dad, holding onto Acxa's hand lightly. She didn't wear one of her head scarves, and it was the first time in a long time that Keith had seen her whole face, her ears and forehead. He looked past all the equipment that sat next to her and focused just on her face. He didn't want to see anything else. 

...

Keith and Lance didn't go home after Thanksgiving, which was an awkward, yet charming hospital dinner, complete with turkey subs and chocolate pie from the bakery down the street. They watched romcoms and Nate brought the photo albums, causing an outcry from Keith when the embarrassing album was placed neatly across Acxa's legs for the whole world (meaning Lance) to see. The pictures of 'emo Keith' were the most embarrassing, followed by 'spaghetti monster Keith' and weird bath photos. Acxa was a sucker for those ones, fawning over Keith as if he were still 5 years old with globs of tomato sauce over his shirt and noodles in his hair. Lance laughed so hard he cried.

Lance visited the ballet studio in the neighboring town and Keith walked around the 5-mile pond with his dad, and they all were with Acxa as soon as she woke up every morning and as late as visiting hours permitted. Lance reluctantly went home after the first week, having to go to practice for The Nutcracker. Acxa made him facetime her from the studio, and Lance showed her the startings of his dance as one of the Russian princes, a contemporary twist on the extremely difficult dance. 

Keith didn't buy a plane ticket back home, he didn't want to leave his mom for a stupid paycheck and dumb homework assignments. No, Acxa needed him home, not to mention Nate, who was a mess when his wife's back was turned. In a way, he looked just as bad as Acxa. Keith knew his dad didn't sleep, he didn't either most nights, but they met in mutual silent agreement by the coffee pot every morning, exhausted eyes meeting each other as they stood between chipped, robin's-egg-blue mugs. 

Most days at the hospital, Keith would take Acxa and her walker to the north wing of the hospital where he would help her climb the stairs up to a quiet waiting area with wide glass windows displaying their favorite spot, the Garden of Hope. Through a glass door, they walked down the cobbled path slowly, Keith's arm around Acxa's waist to support her if she were to stumble. It was getting cold out, so they didn't spend more than 10 minutes out, but it was peaceful to sit on the granite benches and admire the trees that reached up over their heads to touch leaves with the others that lined the path. The flowers were all dead, but the amber, red, and orange leaves that clung to the branches and littered the stone floor were just as pretty to look at.

 Acxa would talk about anything and everything. Sometimes, a desperate tone would creep into her voice and Keith's heart would clench at the thought that she was trying to tell Keith as much as she could before she would no longer be able to. The lines in her face didn't count as wrinkles. They were proof of her emotions, deep laughter than filled her stomach and tracks of tears that etched into the lines beside her eyes. The creases of her forehead were not of cancer, they were of the times she'd held her infant child in her arms as he wailed, slowly soothing him as she rocked him back and forth, back and forth. The light in her eyes was not gone, it had not extinguished. It could never disappear because her love for life would remain with her until her eyes closed for the last time, letting the spark drift up into the clouds. 

...

"Mom, you have to eat it..." Keith said slowly and tried not to let his worry show in his eyes. Acxa saw right through him, but acted like she couldn't see his dark eyes twitching between his two parents. 

"Bah," Acxa huffed, pushing the tall glass of grossness away from her. It was supposed to be some kind of protein drink, but it smelled like ass and her throat hurt too much to eat anything, plus the fact that she felt like she would puke if she tried to eat. Her mind switched to something else to get her husband and son's attention away from her unintentional fasting. "So, Keith... I really like Lance." 

Nate, just like she had expected, jumped into action, eager to show just how supportive he was of his son. "Yeah!" He said brightly, "He's very conscientious of his surroundings, whatta fun guy. Definitely a keeper, son." He smacked Keith's back with a bit too much enthusiasm, causing the college student to cry out in pain. 

Acxa shook her head in amusement, but nodded, "Yeah, Keith, he seems very nice. I think he really cares about you." Keith blushed, uncomfortable at the subject. 

"Well, yeah, Mom... I mean, we  _are_  dating, I'd hope he cares about me." Keith had talked with Lance earlier and it had positively impacted his mood, but no amount of Lance's goofy laughter and lame jokes and pick-up lines even though  _Lance, we're already dating, you don't need to try to seduce me_ could help Keith out in his situation of humiliation. Acxa and Nate were already talking about Lance's multiple achievements, about his big family, and Acxa and Elena had even talked on the phone, chatting about their two boys. From what Keith had heard, they got along well. 

Acxa and Nate were still babbling on and on when Acxa suddenly turned to her son. "Keith, when are you getting married? I want to make sure you didn't wait as long as your father did. I almost had the nerve to propose first, but he popped the question before I could." Keith froze. What the fuck. A sudden image came into his mind, of Lance, floating down the aisle in a white dress that contrasted his dark skin. Keith snapped out of it and nearly slammed his head against the metal railing on his mother's bed. Whatthefuckishappening. 

"I, uh... not married... YET, that is... Not gonna just...  _ask_ , that'd be  _weird_. Lance will probably... I mean, what am I saying... married? Yeah, right... Married... What's that..." Keith mumbled, frantically looking for something to say. His parents looked at him with concern, slightly baffled. 

Acxa rolled her eyes, leaning back against her pillow. "I'll never have grandchildren," she said softly. Keith's eyebrows knit together.

"Mom, just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't adopt." 

Acxa looked at him sharply, "You think I'll live long enough for that?" Her bottom lip quivered. Keith looked down. He wanted to say yes with his entire heart, but he knew he couldn't. 

"I'll never see you get married, go to your anniversaries, your kid's birthday parties. I won't be able to make cookies with them and read them stories..." She sighed, then flung her hands down hard on the sheets that covered her legs, "Fucking useless! Why am I so useless?" Nate leaned forward to Acxa, whose chest was rising and falling quickly. Keith didn't have to look at the monitor to know that her heartbeat was elevated. She was upset, she had a right to be. And there was nothing he could do about it. That hurt the most. 

...

Keith woke up on December 2nd as usual. His alarm clock was loud and cranky, so it was satisfying to slap down the 'OFF' button. He sat up, stretched, and pushed off his comforter and sheets. His feet found his slippers blindly like they had so many mornings before, and he stomped downstairs, rubbing his eyes. He was met by his father's sagging frame on the couch. The phone was on the floor, several feet away. The coffee pot wasn't bubbling. 

"Dad?" 

Nate was hunched over on the couch, head in his hands, still in his boxers and t-shirt that he slept in. Keith's father didn't look up at first, but when he did, the answer crashed down. 

"Mom?" 

Keith's voice was barely audible. Nate nodded. His eyes were puffy. 

"She's gone."

Keith felt the tears in a tightness in the back of his throat, a pressure by his temples before they actually came. A trickle at first, and then, like a dam collapsing, all at once. Saltwater skated down the curves of his cheeks and met at his throat, over the skin that lay there as he gasped for breath, running to the hollow in his collarbone where they seeped into his t-shirt. Nate crushed his son to his chest, arms so strong but so weak, the phone laying on the ground at their feet. 

Keith felt a rift, a hole, open up in his heart, gaping wide like his lips that sobbed incoherent words, and his mother's smile fluttered down through his throat into the tear of his heart, landing softly at the bottom. Her eyes, the way she would lean forward in anticipation for something, her hands warm on Keith's shoulders as she kept him by her side, they all slid down into the trench of Keith's chest, the memories of Acxa flooding in like the film of a VHS tape being fast-forwarded. 

And as Keith cried in his living room where he learned to walk, sing the alphabet, and play the guitar all by his mother's patient help, the clouds outside covered up the sun. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys <3 im sorry, this chapter was both short and sad, but the good news is, the next chapter is the epilogue, the final piece, and i promise it will be a lot happier. it will also be out a lot faster than this one, im so sorry, ive been hella busy... hope you liked, love you guys :)


	29. Epilogue and A/N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://img.youtube.com/vi/5scqf__j7ZY/0.jpg
> 
> ^this was the edit that inspired me to write beat drop~

  
  
_Keith's POV_

I kind of think that everything that happened to me happened for a reason. There are so many ways it could've gone, but I think this is the best ending. Right now, I'm watching Lance, my beautiful boyfriend, reach up to try to catch Allura's bouquet as she flings it over her shoulder. Shiro is standing next to her in a tux, handsome as always, his flop of bleached hair matching her full head that's bedecked by tiny gems and flowers that come from accents of her dress. They look amazing together, and I can already see their two kids, twins, Enzo and Emiline, frolicking in their backyard with a little boy named Caspian. Their farmhouse is somewhere I will visit often with Lance, as we're godparents.

I watch as Lance and Hunk both grasp the bouquet of pink roses, and they immediately get competitive. I catch Hunk glancing at a beautiful woman, one of Allura's bridesmaids, named Shay, and I see his cheeks fan over in blush. I can smell Hunk's Cafe already, and now Shay accompanies him behind the counter, kneading dough and flicking flour over his broad, smiling face. I know that they'll be happy together, but they'll hold off on kids, just until they move into the empty apartment building above the cafe and turn one of the rooms into a nursery.

Pidge is off to the side with his brother, and I can already tell that he's gonna have a good life too. He won't get married, but he'll take Coran's spot as the weird uncle as Coran moves into Weird Grandpa territory, and he'll teach Enzo and Emi and Caspian to hack and code and build tin-can robots. He will live close to Lance and me, which is good because he's always getting into trouble and sleeping over.

And Lance. Our paths were meant to cross, of that I'm certain. From the first time we met at Allura's Arboretum and Floristry, my college job, to our first date with Sir Dab (who will sit in our living room, a constant reminder of when I nearly puked on you after the Zipper and when you showed me up at the water-gun game), to meeting your family, who we will visit often and sing Despacito with, just like before. From the video games, the pride parade, the club, your recital, and then, of course, my mother, you have been with me through it all.

I never told you but I think you proved Love At First Sight to me, that first glance at you, I knew that there was something about you. And under that hilarious, confident layer, I know that you're genuine and caring and compassionate. I know that you're empathetic from the way you held me when I came home from Texas, the way you cared for me for those first 6 months after my mother's death, when depression dipped into our lives and weighted on our shoulders. Lance Mcclain, you have carried so much.

I owe you my happiness, love, and I wouldn't trade you for anything. I can see our future from here, sweetheart. I can see that after college, we buy a studio apartment (Shiro's, actually) and you propose to me with a haiku. I know it's words, I know how your voice hitches on the word 'marry' even though you'll look so confident.

"To have and to hold

My Keith Kogane, I love you

Will you marry me?"

And you know I'll say yes, weirdo. You know it so when say that one syllable, your face lights up like sunshine and you kiss me and promise to make me happy. Little do you know, you already have. We'll move to California to a beach house, and at night we'll go outside and sit on the sand and while you watch the ocean, I'll look up into the stars and thank them that I have you. As you lean your head on my chest, I'll kiss your forehead and you'll tell me again that you love me. 

Lance, you're gonna be a marine biologist, and I'm going to become a sociology professor at a local college, and I'll play guitar for my students who'll love me. They'll think I'm young and want to know about you and I'll tell them about our anniversaries when we go to a carnival, no matter how far away it is, and we ride terrifying coasters and you beat me, year after year, at water-gun games.

And Caspian, that boy I mentioned earlier... Lance, he's our son.

He came to us when we went to the adoption agency, he came zooming out of the door, holding a paper airplane and running so fast he tripped. When he bumped into you as we were filling out the paperwork to apply for a child, you looked at me with an expression that I'll never have seen before. You'll give me the clipboard and pick him up off the floor, setting him on your lap. He's three. I realize that he's going to be the one for us, and the adoption center lady shoots me a look that says she knows.

When Caspian turns four, his first birthday with us, he'll finally meet Enzo and Emi and they'll become best friends immediately. Us four parents will watch from our porch as they topple over in giggles in our backyard, and we'll talk about our college days where everything happened so fast.

By seven, Caspian will be a Star Wars fanatic and is scribbling out comics on notebooks we're buying every week. He has big circle-frame glasses and black hair that's messier than my bedhead. He likes hot cocoa and his favorite color is yellow. He's a weird kid. We would do anything for him.

Fast-forward, Caspian is 15. He runs a blog on Tumblr (what an emo kid, I think he takes after me for that part), and has turned out to be an incredible artist. Our house is covered in his paintings and sketches. On time, he draws us, Lance, me with an astronaut helmet covered in stars, you in the ocean, goggles around your neck and starfish on your legs. We frame it and put it in our room. At night when I can't sleep, I look at it. I think you do too, sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night, you're sitting up in bed and staring at it. I can't blame us, it's gorgeous.

By the time he's in his early twenties, we confirm that we're actually adults now, in our late fifties. Caspian dated Emiline for a while, which was  _very_  weird for Shiro and Allura and us. But they decided that they were better off friends. Caspian is out of college and is in an art school. In a few years, he'll draw comics for a living, and they'll actually get pretty famous, so he travels the world a few times to do signings and stuff. We let him do it, we encourage him. We wish we had traveled more.

So we do. When Caspian turns 36, we take three months off and go to Europe, and holy shit is it worth it. When we get back, Caspian is dating a girl named Amy. Three years later, they get married. We cry together in the front row of the church, and  _everyone_  is there with us. Coran makes it, but he's getting fairly close to senile so Allura is constantly panicking that he's gonna have a heart attack. Caspian's honeymoon is in the Carribean, and he sends us pictures.

He's so independent sometimes it worries us. We wonder if we did something wrong raising him. He becomes much more family oriented when his first child, James, is born. He and Amy stay with us for the first 4 months of James' life, then they move back to their house in Michigan. We cry happy tears. Our second grandchild, Stella, is just as much as a light in our lives. Lance, you braid her long blonde hair and we get Christmas cards every year (that is, if they're not celebrating with us) of the four of them. 

You retire at 67, and in spite, I resign exactly 1 year later. We don't trouble ourselves with much except our annual visits to theme parks to celebrate our anniversary.

...

The mechanic roar of roller coasters and rides are the bass to our song. On top, children's laughter and the sound of vendors calling out to entice passersby to play, play, play. Carnival music overlays the track and the hypothetical cameras pan to a couple sitting on a bench to the side of the gravel path. They're old, maybe 80, and are holding hands. One wears a blue sweatshirt, the other wears a red one. They complete the song. They are the Beat Drop, tying everything together, the flawless rise and fall. They are leaning against each other, and they seem to blend into the scenery, a perfect match that no one objects, an irrevocable connection. 

There's a word for that. 

Soulmate.

 

...

 

Hi guys :)

This book means so much to me. It has the highest number of reads out of all of my other works on watty, and I'm proud of it because of that. But ultimately, I want to thank you. Your endless support, your comments that make my day, your connection to me through the book is so meaningful. I started writing this on August 2nd (2017) and it's immediate feedback and encouragement has helped me to complete 29 chapters of klance. That's 5 months and 19 days, holy shit. For those of you who have been here since the beginning, thank you so so so incredibly much for sticking with me, I hope that this fic lived up to your standards. That goes for everyone else too. I write not only for myself but more for you guys too. I hope that you liked reading as much as I liked writing it. Thank you for everything.

To continue, this is not the end of my klance books! As I've said a few times, while I work on finishing up Pink Champagne, I will also be planning my Mer!Lance fic that I'll hopefully start writing soon... Please let me know if you want me to post another a/n on here when I release the first chapter of it if you're interested:)

Lastly, I want to thank you again. Without you readers, I probably wouldn't have had the motivation to complete it and strive to make it good, so thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to share my work. you guys are amazing, seriously.

ANYWAYS sorry for babbling on and on, my bad. Bottom line: THANK YOU, new angsty/fluffy/maybe even smutty Klance content soon, and i'll see you soon :)

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH! So I've been meaning to write this for a long time. It's based off of a shitton of fanart that I've seen on tumblr and eventually cultivated enough ideas to mush them all together into this big thing! I'm kind og going in blindly, so I really have no idea where this is going, but hopefully it turns out good! I hope you like!


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